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.


8. The kiss - Part. II

 (Not edited)



"Your words mean nothing to me woman," he said, amusement lacing his voice. Faylin gritted her teeth as his hand came to rest on her thigh, "This hate consuming you will keep me alive, it will guide me through for when I go sailing." He leaned closer, making sure she was the only one hearing him "Rest assured that I will always find my way back to the comfort of your arms."


She let out a snort, his words making her stomach queasy. "I despise your entire being. I'd rather die than to give myself to a man like you," Faylin said in a serious cold tone. 


She chose to believe God would see it as an act of repentance. Although she still could not bear his closeness, the thought of a man, him, seeing and handling her body made her cringe.


Unknown to her- the men exchanged knowing grins.


Tore found her willful attitude one of her most endearing feminine traits. No one had ever dared to defy him this way, and certainly not a woman that barely reached his shoulder. She was either foolish or brave, he decided. Nonetheless, it made him want her more.


"There will come the day you will come to me willingly, skatten minn*" His voice had dropped to a husky whisper. ~ 


His response made her uncomfortable, but she did not let it show. Her gaze focused straight ahead; staring in silence as the path, they had taken wound up the side of a slight hill. ~


Nestling under it was a massive imposing longhouse with other type of structures connected to it by what she was certain to be passageways.


She had never seen anything like it before.


As they closed the distance, Faylin noticed the footing of the house was made of stones and the roof was heather thatched. Thinly see-through scraped animal hides stretched across holes in the walls, the front entrance and door was made of wood and elaborately carved. 


~~The high place overlooked the fortress gate entrance behind them and everything else around it. Indeed, it had an advantageous position; if ships were to be seen approaching their shore, they would have the upper hand. 


Just then, the horse neighed, pulling her out of her thoughts. An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of Faylin's stomach as they dismounted. She knew that the time would eventually come, that this was not a dream and that she would have face this unbearable truth somehow...~


~As Tore's large hands loosened their grip on her waist after helping her down, Faylin caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye. She realized it was... a woman.  The blonde's face broke into a full smile.


Faylin scowled.


Wrenching herself free of Tore's grip she took a few steps back, watching as the woman wearing a long white dress and a blue shawl fastened by a brooch at the base of her neck walked directly into Tore's arms. She averted her eyes to the ground, feeling like she was invading their privacy.


"Rest assured that I will always find my way back to the comfort of your arms."  His words came rushing to her mind. 


She felt bad for his wife. Not knowing about his infidelity. He was animalistic and cold- just like his heathen heart. 




Her face looked up as Tore beckoned her over with a heads nod. It was the first time he had said her name. However, it had come out in a low, growly voice. 


She hesitated, her eyes fixed on the scene behind him. The blonde woman was now in the raven-haired man's arms, looking into his eyes while caressing his beard. Faylin felt bile rise up in her throat. Did they share the same woman?


"Come" came his firm command. It was clear in his voice he was displeased with her lack of obedience. "Do you wish to rile me further?" His voice hardened as he moved towards her, livid, a vein throbbing on his forehead. 


She shook her head quickly, stopping any protest she might have made. The only time she had seen him look this angry was at the ship, when his hand had wrapped around that man's throat. The same hand now clenched into a tight fist... She suppressed the urge to rub her slender throat.


"Ég sé að þú hefur keypt nýjan þræl bróður." (I see you have acquired a new slave, brother.) Said the woman as she examined Faylin from head to toe, shameless in her inspection. Faylin had not heard her approach, she'd been too lost in her own mind to even notice.


"Þessi er sérstök. Hún er að þjóna mér." (This one's special. She is to serve me.) Tore grunted with irritation. 


The woman raised an eyebrow, her gaze never wavering from Faylin. "Nokkuð ung hlutur..." (Pretty young thing...)


The language was foreign to her; she didn't know what that meant! What were they talking about? Were they talking ill about her?  Dimly aware of the pressure around her side and being lead inside the house, she casted a quick glance over her shoulder. Tore was still rooted to his spot, back turned to her.


She was starting to regret her actions...


~~When they entered the house, Faylin was hit by warmth. The first thing she noticed was the entrance porch. There were cloaks hung on it; it made her wonder how many more of Tore's kin lived there. The small entrance hall area had many tapestries adorning the carved walls, lined with wooden panels. They portrayed fierce warriors with shields and swords in what looked like a battle scene.


It made her remember the day her world collapsed.


The woman pulled her to an aisle to her left. It led to a grand and luxurious hall. In the center of it was a fire pit ringed with stones and on both sides, two long tables with wooden benches topped with sheepskin. Faylin looked at the beaten-mud floor. She hoped all required from her would be cleaning, a more pleasant task.  


"You have no need to worry. The chores you will be given are lighter than the rest of the slaves in this house. Tore won't have you tired out for when night falls."


"What do you mean by-"


"Im Turid. You?" Faylin frowned lightly and looked at Turid. Her face was devoid of any expression. 


"I-I'm Faylin" 


"Faylin" The word drifted slowly from Turid's tongue. She nodded her head slowly- "I'll have someone to bring water and pour into the basin." ~


~ Turid turned to leave, but paused, turning slightly to Faylin "Do not push him... You will do well to hold your sharp tongue around here; you're no longer a free woman. Heed my words"


After the blonde had left, Faylin sank to her knees, her back pressed against the large basin. She had no tears to cry. 


Would it change anything?  Her conscience pricked her. No, it won't. Still, she wasn't sure if she should trust this woman, Turid. She had an intimidating aura around her that left Faylin wary. 


Without warning, the door opened and she jumped to her feet, started. Tore entered, much to her chagrin- "Do not push him..."- and closed the door behind him. She didn't like the feeling of being trapped. The walls surrounding them seemed to start getting smaller as she met his smoldering gaze.




Faylin gasped. "W-what?" 


Suddenly, she felt a fury build up inside her. I won't give him anything! I won't hear his plead nor I will obey him.


"I will not do such thing, you filthy beast!" Faylin yelled at him. She was red with fury, her face ablaze. "Don't come any closer! If you touch me-"


In one swift motion, his right arm wound around her back to pull her flush against his body. Faylin barely had time to let out a protest before he had grabbed the back of her neck and roughly smashed his lips against hers, his hands squeezing her tight against him. 


Faylin's struggles became more frantic; his hands were taking liberty of roaming her body and her air supply was growing shorter as his kiss became hungrier. 


Faylin did the only thing she could.


She bit him. 




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