Leif looked at me with fat tears in his beautiful brown eyes. Something was wrong with his face, his usual smooth pale skin was charred, red, and peeling in spots. His curly copper hair was scorched all over, the chestnut color turned black, yet he did not act as if he was in pain.

I reached out to give him a comforting hug, my arms outstretched, but I froze at his next words.

"Aunt Bri, why did you leave Mama and me in the church? Did you not know what would happen to us? You left us there to die, Aunt Bri," he said with a lone tear running down a chubby cheek.

My throat closed with emotion, and a harsh whimper left me as my little nephew's words speared through me like a sword. My heart ached fiercely, squeezing and releasing in an unrelenting pattern. I pressed my lips tightly together to prevent making any noise, my chest burned like hot coals, scalding my insides from shoving my cries down.

"Why, Aunt Bri? Why did you leave me there? Did you not love me?" More tears leaked from his eyes and my own face copied him, a small river now wetting my cheeks.

"I-I did not mean to, Leif. You must believe me!" I choked out. I felt as though my chest was about to burst; the pain, grief, and guilt becoming too much.

I did this. 'Twas my fault. I made my beautiful, innocent nephew burn into nothing.

Nothing but ash and bone.

Leif only shook his head in response. But as he did so, chunks of his copper curls fell from his head to the ground. A strangled gasp left me as his beautifully ruined hair depleted within moments. Leif was completely bald now, like a newborn babe. He continued to stare at me with hurt and sadness, and my heart seized as I recognized hatred within his brown depths.

Hatred towards me.

His small figure continued to contort and diminish, and I was unable to do anything but stand and watch with horror. It was like my feet were rooted to the ground. Frozen like ice deep in the heart of winter. His alabaster skin turned black as night and began to peel off, revealing the white bone underneath. Within a few breaths, a little boney figure stood before me, my little Leif gone.

A sob left me as I stared as the infernal looking being in front of me. That was not my Leif.

"YOU LEFT ME THERE TO DIE, AUNT BRI! NOW YOU MUST PAY THE PRICE!" A dark ominous voice rang out from the bones in front of me.

"No! Leif, please! No!" I screamed, holding my hands over my ears.

"Britta? Britta! You are having a nightmare, please wake! Britta, wake up!" I felt my body being pulled up and shaken by a pair of warm strong hands, my scream breaking off as I opened my eyes.

Gasping deeply for breath, I scanned the chambers frighteningly, looking for the skeletal Leif and that horribly deep voice. There were no signs of the being in the room. I let a huge relieved breath as I shuddered. I swept my gaze again around the darkened room. The moon's fading light from the window glimmered upon the objects within the restored bedchambers. The fireplace across the bed only hissed and crackled, the only sound in the room beside my harsh breathing, the flames weak and dying from the lack of new wood. A bundle of furs was scattered in a pile by the dimming fire. My mind registered that its inhabitant was no longer there.

Sweat rolled down my temples from the heat within the room, or was that just me?

"Britta? Are you alright?" a low voice rumbled next to me.

I swiveled my frightened gaze to the brute, who now sat on the bed of furs next to me, looking worried. His face was scrunched in a worried frown, his pale scar crinkling his lips and chin. He was only wearing light breeches worn for sleep, his muscular scarred chest bare. His dark hair was in a disarray and undone from its bound. It fell in his flawed face in which he blew back with a breath. He must have woke when I began screaming in my dream and rushed to me from his slumber on the floor by my side.

I quickly pulled away from his touch, still out of breath. The furs fell to my waist and pooled in a thick cover around me. My skin instantly cooled from the furs and his warm touch, my arms and shoulders finally bare from the thin shift I wore.

I focused on my breathing as I desperately tried to slow it and my heart down. My heart pounded fiercely from the horrid dream, nearly coming out of my chest. I raised a hand to my throat. My fingers lightly brushed the bandage that the clan healer had wrapped around my cut throat once I returned to the village. It kept me grounded for some reason-perchance a reminder to not fall into the Jarl's comforting arms so quickly like an easy cheap harlot.

No matter how much his light touches or caresses made my skin tingle or flush hot, I was brought to reality by the bandage on my throat. The vile stranger had attacked me, nearly raping me, and I could not stop picturing his face above me in my mind. The stranger looking down at me with a foreign deranged lust made my skin crawl like the fuzzy orange worms in spring. His blue crazed eyes seemed to be burned into my memory. I shuddered as I felt the ghostly touch of him on my flesh. But the bandage also reminded me of the brute's rescue, not once.

But twice.

He growled, his scar contorting, and swatted a hand at me to stop me from messing with the bandage. I shot a glare his way, and he only raised a brow at me, daring me to try it again.

I only rolled my eyes. "I am fine, 'twas just a dream," I finally responded softly, only wishing to forget.

"How bad?" he tenderly whispered.

I shook my head, my throat closing, not desiring to repeat the frightfully gruesome vision of my beloved Leif. My heart ached as I remembered the cold festering hate in his brown orbs. Tears filled my eyes, and I blinked furiously to keep them at bay. Kare and Ran would have teased me relentlessly for acting such a blubbering addlepate. Oh, how I missed them so.

A warm hand brushed my loose locks away from my brow, fingering a few beads near my ear, bringing me back to the present. Away from the memories of my deceased family. My dreams seemed to plague and fester upon the images of my family; both good and bad. In the end of nearly each one, a lone figure stood off in the distance of my visions. 'Twas a brief yet subtle flash of a dark individual that beheld a scar running along the side of their face. A watching form that understood my grief and pain. A form nearly identical to my brute.

I closed my eyes as his fingers began to massage my head, and I immediately groaned in pleasure as a headache that had tormented me these past several days eased only slightly.

Or shall I say five. Five nightfalls.

It has been five sundowns since we have returned from the valley.

Five eventides where I awoke screaming in pain, terror, or helplessness in the middle of the night from my nightmares.

And each time the brute rushed to my side from his perch on the floor by the bed, comforting me. But no matter his constant hovering or caring touches to calm my nerves the dreams continued. I could not eat as I no longer had the desire for food. The aromas that drifted from the kitchen and the dining hall did not make my belly growl ferociously like before. I simply lost my appetite. I remained in the chambers, not wanting to talk to others-let alone go out and eat with them. I stayed holed up in here only looking out the window and talking to the brute each day. This did not go unnoticed by the brute either, as he coaxed, goaded, and even threatened to do some things that made the blood rush to my face in bashfulness and mortification.

"What are you thinking about, min søte?"

"Nothing," was my only reply.

The brute huffed, rolling his dark hypnotic eyes and pulled his magical fingers away from my aching skull. "Fine, be stubborn. Get some sleep, Britta."

As he turned to go lay back on the floor, I suddenly had the desperate yearning to not be alone on this massive bed of furs; obviously meant for someone much larger than myself, or at least two individuals. I did not want to be all by myself up here while he laid on the unforgiving ground below. I knew it had to be most troublesome, yet he did not complain nor gaze longingly at the bed, his attention only on my comfort.

Guilt tugged at my mind and heart at the kindness he displayed to me while I sent myself into a depressive state. I noticed how he was the only one that cared for me, making sure I had enough to drink and eat, aside from the few servants assigned to me. 'Twas as if he put aside his Jarl duties and responsibilities to look after me. But I could see how the sleepless nights played a toll on him, the dark circles under his onyx orbs and the fitting of his clothes were different than before.

I took a deep breath, my nerves suddenly rising to a dangerous high at my stupid sudden desire to be held.

"J-Jarl Aderick?" I asked hesitantly, apprehensive of his answer to my bizarre request.

"Ja?"

"W-Would you s-stay up here with m-me? I know the floor is uncomfortable, a-and there is so much space up here," I patted the furs. "A-And I believe it may help k-keep the dreams at bay." I finished lamely in a rushed murmur.

I looked down in embarrassment and my cheeks flamed blood red. I waited for the rejection, for him to perchance scoff at my offer. I silently began counting in my head as I fiddled with my nails. Once I reached thirty, I had self-disgusted tears in my eyes, and I began to turn over to lie back down.

I was a fool to think or even have to gall to ask such a thing of my caretaker. I continued to take and take from him but never give. I was acting selfishly.

I clenched my eyes tight as I realized I would have to go through another horrid nightmare. Again. Alone. Without any prevention of any sorts. No matter how hard I tried to stay awake each night, the toll of the past seven days, as well as the attack, pulled on my body. A sob left me as I desperately wanted, nei, needed to sleep in peace. I wanted the numbing black blanket of unconsciousness to wrap me in its arms and never let me go. Even a small period of rest without any visions would suffice.

"Shhh," his low hushed voice reached me as he turned me back towards him.

I refused to look at him, keeping my eyes down on the dark bear fur, in fear of seeing the bold rejection in his obsidian eyes.

"Open your eyes, my little wildcat and look at me."

I kept my eyes on the fur. I lightly traced patterns in the velvety soft pelt.

"Britta!"

I snapped my eyes up to his at the harsh demand. Heat and irritation swirled in a dangerous combination in the stormy blend of his eyes.

The Jarl leaned over me, his hair like a dark curtain, like a predator carefully watching its prey. I gulped in nervousness as I realized how close we were. The trademark smirk appeared with his scar crinkling, and he nodded his head slightly.

"Scoot over," he said gruffly.

A small part of me rejoiced as he slid into the bed beside me. I quietly let out a thankful breath as I realized tonight could possibly the first night without a nightmare. This was also the first night the brute touched me more than a doting caretaker since our return. A shiver went through my body at the suddenly strained and heated energy that was thickly wrapped around us.

The slide of his bare skin against mine was like a stimulating personal heating source. I was thankful that I wore thin clothing to bed, else I would be a sweating mess amongst the furs.

His arms wrapped around my waist and tugged my body close to his, curling my smaller body against his larger one. I froze as I felt unfamiliar emotions rush through my body along with the foreign press of a strong male body pressed against mine. I wiggled to get comfortable and the brute groaned low. His warm hand clamped on my hip, the material of my shift rising from his touch, stopping my movement.

"By the gods, Britta, lie down. And quit moving," he rasped out. His voice seemed to have dropped a few octaves.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Go to sleep, Britta," he only said, not answering my question.

After a while, I could feel the brute's long body relaxing as he succumbed to slumber. His deep breathing eased in and out in a soft snore, ruffling the hair by my ear. His arm was like a tight band that refused to budge, keeping me locked tightly in his embrace. I squirmed in my spot, trying to get comfortable and force my mind to stop whirling from the brute's touch. He was asleep and I was still awake daydreaming about him. I froze and silently cursed as I felt something hard against my backside.

Oh no.

I laid still as it clicked what was so warm and hard behind me. Why the brute growled at me. The inner trickster within me wanted to mess with the brute, but I quickly banished those thoughts. I did not need to have those thoughts of him while he was being so caring towards me. My thoughts ran alongside a harlot's and blood rose to my cheeks at my behavior.

The brute sighed, shifting his body ever so slightly, tucking me even tighter into him. He unconsciously nuzzled my hair and a pang hit my heart at the small sweet gesture.

I am not sure how exactly, but the brute was helping me slowly cope with the loss of my family. I still had fits of endless tears and he only curled me into his chest until my sobs ceased. The denial and guilt still toyed with my mind, making my belly twist and churn as I realized the unfairness of my life. The mourning process was far from over but he tried his best to make it easier.

But the brute, oh the brute-I had judged him too soon. Too quickly.

He was unlike all of those gruesome rumors of him; at least from what I have seen. Yet I knew that this side of him was not shown to others, only myself and close family. The ruthless Jarl was gone once our doors were closed, the wandering eyes shut away from the different person within the bedchambers.

I sighed with tiredness. The brute was no longer tied to the anger, guilt, and grief of losing my family and all of my people. Nei, instead, he was beginning to be alighted with something else. Some emotion that I was extremely hesitant to acknowledge.

With that last foreign thought, sleep finally embraced me in its arms.

*.*.*

"Put me down! Now! You brute put me down at once!" I yelled in protest.

The Jarl only hiked my body higher on his broad muscular shoulder and continued striding through the halls. I groaned once more as my aching belly landed on hard muscle. I felt the bile in my throat rise and I quickly swallowed to avoid spilling my guts onto him and my bodice.

"I told you we had a clan meeting tonight, and you are required to be there. Yet you refused me, again, so I had no choice."

"And I told you I did not want to go!" I hissed. He remained silent, not responding to my protests.

I smacked my hands against his broad back as he made his way outside, the twilight sky casting shadows against the manor and the buildings.

Why, oh why did this situation feel so familiar? I growled in annoyance and the brute continued walking on his joyful way, his boots leaving slight imprints in the ground.

Finally, the swaying stopped. He suddenly grasped my waist and set me on my feet gently before swiveling my body around to face the clan members. My eyes widened at the large crowd of people watching us. I looked away, not wanting to meet anyone's curious eyes. Instead, I peered around, deliberately ignoring everyone. The night sky was now bright with lit torches, some that were shoved into the cold ground as well as ones held by numerous warriors. The stars above us were twinkling furiously, almost in excitement for what was to come. I looked back amongst the crowd, wondering what they all were waiting for.

'Twas like they were anxiously awaiting for something to happen. Something exciting. A few warrior's faces were alight with excited expressions and others looked at us in passiveness. The women looked the same; only a few were apprehensive, weary almost. Children clung to their mother's skirts, peeking from under them at me in curiosity.

The crowd parted as the Jarl walked confidently through them, dragging me along with my hand grasped tightly in his. I flipped my hand in his, digging my nails into his palm, hoping to draw blood.

He only looked back my way with a raised brow before pulling me with him to the center of the gathered crowd.

From the concealed view of people, I now realized that we were standing in front of some sort of fighting platform. Thin planks of wood surrounded a large spread of dark bear fur that was nailed flat into the ground with stakes in the corners, creating a square looking area. The fur was not very large in width or length, as it would not be able to fully cover the Jarl's large bed. There were numerous spots of darkened fur splattered throughout, and I could not make out what they were. The strips of wood puzzled me. 'Twas if the planks were boundaries for the fur.

I was bewildered at the sight. What was the purpose of this?

The crowd of people now circled around the blocked area, completely surrounding us. Their murmurs created an ecstatic hum within the night, the excitement in the air nearly tangible. I looked up at the brute, confused.

He only smirked down at me, winking before glaring at someone across the opening. His facial expression changed so quickly I thought to have imagined it. I swung my gaze from him to whomever he was glowering at, and my jaw dropped at the sight of Balder standing on the other side of the wooden planks.

That was when I remembered his words from that first day at the manor. Balder was to pay for touching me, for doing something I imagined to be dastardly and wrong. The brute stepped from behind me, one hand keeping ahold of me, his other slicing through the air.

The crowd immediately hushed, waiting on edge for their Jarl's words.

"Tonight on this eventide, you shall know what happens when one touches what is mine!" His low voice boomed throughout the night. He turned slightly, looking at almost every face within the crowd before turning back to his kin.

"We are gathered on this night to demonstrate a punishment. Balder Eriksen, you are here because of your betrayal to your Jarl, your own kin, by touching his intended. You knew of the law and of the unspoken rules of kin. You shall pay the price for disobeying me." He said fiercely, his teeth clenched in unhinged fury.

The brute released his possessive hold on me and walked slowly towards the staked fur. Balder copied his movements, cautiously approaching.

"You know the rules. Once first blood is drawn and falls onto the fur the fight shall cease. Opponents cannot step outside the fur if so, it shall be immediate forfeit. If you win, you shall pay your respects and apologize to Britta. If you lose," the brute smiled wickedly, confidently. "Then you shall pay me one hundred silver coins as well as apologize to my bride.

"Forstått?" He grunted at Balder.

Balder remained quiet, concentrating. His only response was a slight nod.