"Why did you take me?"

My captor remained quiet, his head still laying on the floor. He looked as though in the church praying to the gods, on his knees. But I had a feeling this was his way to avoid looking at me as he answered my question.

"'Tis complicated," he rasped low.

"Well, uncomplicate it then," I muttered with impatience.

He slowly rose from his position, facing me with an unreadable expression on his scarred face. His blazing eyes seemed to slowly trail down from my face to my chest then my knees that were exposed from my undergarments. I no longer cared how I was dressed. The feeling of embarrassment was gone.

He rubbed a hand against his face. "Where do I begin?" He wondered softly, looking around the destroyed room, as if to himself.

Irritation flashed through me at his question. I rolled my eyes.

And yet, his words reminded me of my story times with Pappa when I was young. Sadness yet a bit of amusement filled me as I recalled Pappa telling me all different stories before bed. 'Twas one the things I looked forward to as a child of a few summers. Even though he was the Jarl of our clan, he always made sure to come tell me a story before I fell asleep. He always teased me with a similar question, making me giggle at his silliness.

But he was not my Pappa.

"Where else? The beginning." I retorted, crossing my arms across my chest. As Ran would say, this man was dumber than a bag of hammers.

His dark eyes flashed with annoyance but then relaxed. My captor cleared his throat, pausing for a few breaths before shaking his head. I was nearing was shaking with anticipation.

I needed to know.

"Nei, I cannot tell you now. We must get ready for the feast tonight. Please," He said as he stood, "Join me in the feast tonight. The servants shall bring a hot bath and fresh clothing for you soon."

I wanted to scream and pull my hair from the roots.

This man...Ergh.

Disappointment and anger flushed through me, making my skin hot with displeasure. Why could he not tell me now? I growled in frustration at this infuriating man.

"Nei, you cannot do that to me! At least give me this," I was at the lowest point of my existence, nearing killing myself and pleading to my captor. I was desperate.

"I shall tell you soon. I promise," My captor said.

He paused, unaware at my growing rage, looking around his destroyed chambers with a grimace. "And I shall send someone to clean this up."

And with that, he quietly left the room, without letting me demand an answer, leaving me to ponder what he was going to say. Why Odin, why was I physically attracted to this man, yet in my heart and mind he was a vile monster that I reject? Sometimes I felt as though I was talking to the wall, not a Jarl. I wondered how big my chances were of escaping without any notice to others within the manor.

I could not stay here waiting and pleading to the Jarl to find the reason behind my kidnapping, waiting on him hand and foot. He would keep me here, telling me promises, never actually explaining me the reason as to why I was taken. I would forever remain in his grasp.

I would rather leave, perchance never knowing why I survived the raid, than stay here.

I moved towards the window, peering out into the woodland that seemed to taunt me with its closeness.

A small wooden trinket lay perched upon the sill, and I grasped the figure. It was intricate, dainty, and very liable to break. 'Twas a child's toy. I wondered if it was the Jarl's when he was but a young child. This small toy almost gave him an innocence that he did not exclude to others.

My thoughts turned over and over like my fingers over the small wooden toy, repeating what my captor had said in my mind. I would never try to hurt you...Something was not right. Why would the man who killed my entire clan say such a thing?

I turned my gaze away from the trinket and gazed longingly out the window, knowing I would have to wait until the perfect time to leave.

Soon after the brute left, a small knock sounded at the door before it opened. Three young maids came in, their gaze downcast. One carried a blue silk gown, fresh undergarments, and a fur-rimmed cloak; the other two carried a large metal tub filled with hot water. Another girl trailed behind the two with her arms full of vials of scented oils and drying cloths for the bath. They set the hot cask by the desk.

I watched their eyes widen at the sight of the destroyed chambers. I had a feeling their impressions of what transpired in here were not of what actually happened. They all glanced at me and one girl stifled a giggle with her hand. I could not help but blush.

Clearing my throat, I smiled gratefully at them. I needed this bath desperately. "Thank you, you may go."

They bowed quickly before quietly exiting the room. Irritation flashed through me at their gesture of respect towards me. I was a captive, the Jarl's prisoner. Not someone of high class.

Not anymore.

I shook the displeasure away as I turned towards the desk. The bath looked inviting as steam rose from the water. I shed the rest of my clothing before stepping into the tub. I sighed in pleasure as my muscles relaxed from the heat. It felt like so long ago since I had a nice warming bath to soothe my tight muscles. I grabbed the vials from the desk, deciding on the one that smelled of flowers. Pouring a generous amount, I washed my hair and soaked until the water began to turn cold.

I dried myself before dressing in the thin but clean undergarments. My jaw dropped in awe at the intricate stitching and beading on the beautiful dark blue silk gown. Gold threads created flowers and vines along the bodice and long sleeves. The same pattern danced along the hem of the skirt. My fingers lightly traced the pattern, marveling at the stitch work. 'Twas simply elegant. A black cloth belt tied in the middle of the dress meant to wrap around my waist. I donned it on before clasping the brooch on the new fur-trimmed black cloak. I lightly touched the gold stitching on the slippers that matched my dress.

This clothing would have to do for tonight when I escaped the manor.

I braided my long hair away from my face, a few rebellious curls around my temples fell from my braids hold. I heard a set of knocks on the door before it opened, revealing my captor dressed in dark simple clothes, his ragged face freshly shaven. His cloak was similar to mine yet had the Dahlsten crest on his left side near his heart.

A symbol of the Jarl.

I was struggling to lace the rest of my gown in the back when he entered the room, as it was troublesome to fasten in betwixt the blades of my shoulders. I softly growled in frustration, twisting my body in order to correctly lace my dress. I usually wore gowns that laced in front, right over my bosom. It was terribly strenuous.

"Here, let me," My captor softly said, gliding across the room towards me.

Panic filled me and I backed away from him, shaking my head profusely at him.

My captor's eyes filled with warmth and a low chuckle escaped him. "I shall not touch you like that anymore, not unless you beg me to. Just let me help you," he said.

After several moments silently debating, I nodded slightly. Cautiously, I turned around, pulling my braid across my shoulder. I shivered slightly as his warm hands touched the bare skin of my back briefly before he laced the rest of the gown. I heard a low hiss fill the room before ceasing. My captor stepped away, careful to put a few feet between us.

I did not say a word, only turning to meet his eyes briefly in acknowledgment and gratefulness.

He remained silent as well, only then presenting his elbow to me, obviously wishing me to take it. I kept my gaze away from his hypnotic ones and refused to touch him, leaving his arm to hang in the air. If he foolishly thought I would voluntarily touch him after my meltdown, he should believe different.

He only growled in response and ripped the door open.

We left the room and walked silently towards the hall, falling a few steps behind him. The silence was uncomfortable and filled with a strange tension. I felt as though this man now knew the darkest part of my soul, and I could not help but feel uneasy. I ignored him and my feelings as I tried to memorize the corridor, eyeing all of the doors and exits.

We reached the doors to the hall, the walls did not block out the loud noise of numerous voices talking and shouting from within. A faint hint of music bled through the doors reaching my ears. I looked up at him, noticing his gaze trained on the door.

I was surprisingly nervous and terrified to meet his people. Their reactions and judgment were something I did not want to face. Yet I knew I would not be here long enough to truly care. I was leaving soon.

I inhaled deeply, shoving down the dread in my belly. Let us get this over with.

Almost as if he could read my mind, he opened the large doors to the hall.

The hall suddenly became eerily silent as we entered. All at once, everyone stopped what they were doing and stood, bowing low to the ground in respect of their Jarl. I could feel many curious and judgmental eyes on me, the weight of them laying heavily on my shoulders. He led me towards a pair of large chairs at the center table within the room.

They were thrones, I realized.

Only a few people sat at the center table, the Jarl's trusted men and Ingrid. My eyes flickered over her, not wanting to rehash the feelings of betrayal. She seemed to plead with me with her brown eyes, but I turned away from her, sitting in the seat that my captor had pulled out for me.

Once he sat down beside me, everyone in the room sat at once. Low voices spread throughout the room and I instinctively guessed the hushed voices were about the Jarl's captive bride.

Me.

Numerous servants entered the large hall and began serving platters of food. A full dish was placed in front of me, and my appetite diminished as I cast my gaze around the room. The hall looked similar to my old home, and I could not help but compare the two clans. Our food hall was open to everyone and we did not have the servants serve the food. We always grabbed what we wished and did our own things without the help of others. It seemed as though the servants here took more of a role in preparing and serving food to the others.

I met a few stares, a few curious and some a bit malicious, most of which I discerned from a few women within the hall. I glared back with a brow raised in defiance. Obviously, they had some sort of connection to my captor, but I did not care. He was not mine.

The Jarl spoke low to the men at the table, discussing something that had happened in the village earlier. There were a few faces I have not seen before amongst the table. I recognized the twins, Ivar and Trond, Balder with a swollen nose, and Ragnar who sat close to Ingrid. She looked lovingly at him and he smiled softly at her.

They were a couple, I realized. They looked happy together. My heart saddened at the sight.

My mind flashed with images of Astrid and Bo, Ran and Jette, and Kare and Linnea. The two reminded me of the love betwixt all of my siblings and their spouses.

Tearing away from them, I picked and nibbled at my food, my appetite nowhere in sight. My imprisoner suddenly leaned down towards me, his hot breath on my ear.

"If you do not eat more I shall have to take you across my knee later. And you shall enjoy it," He promised softly.

I nearly spit out the ale I had just drunk at his words. The nerve of this man made my hand twitch with the need to smack him. But my body could not help the shiver that ran through me at his heated words. I shuddered in disgust instead and glared at him in defiance.

He winked at me and turned back to his men who watched with amused eyes. I blushed furiously at the attention upon me.

A few hours later, I sat bored in the uncomfortable wooden chair. The Jarl was walking around the room, talking to people who claimed to need his guidance or advice or simply chatting with them. He seemed to be a good leader up front, but I knew it was only a small part of who he was.

A killer, a womanizer, the devil himself in the flesh.

Now was the time. I rose from the chair, ready to be gone from this atrocious place, muttering an excuse about retiring to my chambers to one of the men near me. I walked quickly towards the corridor, not attempting to draw attention to myself.

No one chased after me, thank Odin. This was the perfect time to escape. Everyone was in the hall, oblivious to my flight to freedom. He would believe that I retreated back to my, or I should say his, chambers. I crept along the corridor, glancing around me for any sign of Dahlsten clan members.

Not a soul remained in the corridors. Everyone, including the patrolling guards, must be within the hall celebrating the feast.

Perfect.

I hurried towards the large back doors that I spotted when we first walked towards the hall. I grasped the cold metal handle and pulled, praying to the gods that it did not groan like the other doors in the manor. I let out a relieved breath as the door opened without a sound and I crept out into the night. Some of the snow had melted during the day, leaving a path towards the forest.

I could nearly taste the freedom as the treeline began reaching closer and closer. I wanted to shout in alleviation, but I knew I could not, for I could alert someone. I rushed towards the wall of woodland, careful where I stepped to avoid making trails.

I ran for a time, only stopping once in a while to drink some melted snow and nibble on a piece of bread that I took from the feast. I was getting closer to the mountainside, the steep slope just within a short runs distance. The wind picked up, sending flakes of snow around me, and I huddled deeper into my cloak.

My slippers were soaked and caked with mud but at the moment I did not care. I needed to be as far away from the clan village as possible. I pressed on until the moon could not provide any more light.

The sky held the time old balance of the emptiness of the moon and the sun, the colors blessing the sky in strange blues and grays. I knew I had to find a place for shelter and cover before it would be completely bright outside. I could not make it far in the daylight, for it would be too easy to find me with my black cloak.

I had a feeling that the brute now realized that I had escaped instead of returning back to the chamber. Another inkling told me that he would come to find me and would not stop until he did.

I could vividly imagine his rage at finding an empty chamber.

I began climbing up the mountain, using a worn path to find a cavern to reside in. I collected dry brush and twigs to build a fire with as I made my way up the mountain, remembering what Ran told me to start a fire.

Finally, I found a small cave that I had to crawl through to get inside. The darkness of the crawl space was intimidating, but I pressed my fears down as I saw a bit of light up ahead.

The cave opened up to a small room, smaller than the chamber I stayed in at the manor, but it was tall enough for me to stand in. It was dry and a small pool of water trickled in the corner, a crack in the ceiling dripping liquid. 'Twas perfect. I started the fire with a pair of sharp rocks I found and huddled next to the building flames. My feet were frozen and dirty with mud so I took off my drenched slippers. Rubbing warmth back into my cold feet, I silently mourned the ruined silk.

The tug of exhaustion and the warmth of the fire called to me. I made my cloak into a headrest and blanket, as it was large enough to wrap around my body twice. I sighed and closed my eyes, sleep enveloping me in its arms.

I failed to notice the watching figure standing in the darkened corner of the cave before my eyes shut.

🙄