My Beloved Wolf

Chapter 10

“His band seems to mean a lot to him,” I say to Catherine as we walk back towards the village.

She nods. “Most men have one,” she tells me. “The Jarl usually gives it to them when they are old enough to pledge to him. It may be different in another village, but there must be something special for him to be sure they would recognize it as his.”

I nod, thinking about his plan. He would only agree to marry me before he left if I promised to go to his village if they came. I was hesitant but finally agreed to it. Anders is spending today working with the men in the barn, and I came with Catherine so she could begin to teach me the language here.

“Can women even earn money here?” I ask as we get close to the barn. “Gifts seemed important to him, but I have nothing to trade.”

“Some of the older people will trade to have people do the more difficult jobs while the men are on the raids,” she tells me. “Cleaning clothes is a big one.”

“I can do that,” I tell her. “Maybe he would understand if I gave him a gift when he returned.”

She shrugs as we return to the hut to talk to the midwife. “Probably. He seems quite excited to have you.”

I smile, knowing she’s right because I feel the same way. I knew the second that our eyes met that I would be his. I didn’t realize how agreeable I would be to it or how good it would feel, but I knew before he even took me to the boat that I was his.

We walk inside the hut, and she speaks with the midwife. The midwife looks over her shoulder at me and nods once. Catherine comes back, but she frowns.

“She wants to teach you, but you have to stay here,” she says grimly. “I told her you and Anders are getting married before he leaves. She said for you to come once he is gone.”

“Tell her yes,” I say, and she turns back and tells her my reply.

She nods and comes up, taking my face in her hands and looking deep into my eyes. She says something and then kisses the middle of my forehead before releasing me and turning back to tend to the fire.

We leave, walking down the path back to the barn so Catherine can complete the chores she still has today. “Helga likes you,” she tells me. “She said that you’re blessed by Frigga, but she called you a daughter of Freyja.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I tell her.

“They’re goddesses,” she tells me as we enter the barn. “It’s good. It means she thinks you are favored among the Gods. Anders likely is, too, since he survived the shipwreck.”

She’s right, I realize. I haven’t put much thought into it, but amazingly, he was able to survive such an ordeal. I wonder what his friends were like. Did they all die? Or did they make it to safety somewhere else? My heart hurts for the man who has taken such good care of me since we found each other. He’s all alone, too.

Well, he was until he found me. Deciding to marry him was impulsive, but what other choice do I have? If I declined, I would likely become a slave here. There’s no chance I can return to my home, and I doubt there’s even a home left. No, marrying him is the best decision, and I’m sure my father would agree. Knowing in my heart that my father would approve of him brings me immense comfort.

“Are you alright?” Catherine asks me.

“Yeah,” I tell her with a smile. “Just thinking. I think my father would have liked Anders.”

“Probably,” she agrees as she begins shoveling the droppings the animals left. “He will care for you.”

I nod, knowing that she’s right. He really will.

“Now,” she says with a smile. “Time to learn the language.”

--------------------------------

We had dinner in the big house with Olga and her family before returning to our little corner of the barn. The same woman from yesterday had happily walked up to me and handed me her son again while she helped to prepare the food. The baby smiled and giggled at me, and as I played with him, I could see Anders look at me in a way that made butterflies form in my stomach. He smiled at me sweetly as he gently rubbed my back and would occasionally let the baby hold onto his finger. Someday, I thought, looking at the man who had saved me. Someday.

I notice some flowers on the small table in our home sitting in a broken bowl, but they’re beautiful. They’re tiny white flowers that I have recently fallen so in love with. Has he noticed me looking at them?

I sit on the hay, unwrap the comb from an unused dress, and comb through the ends of my hair. Anders surprises me as he moves to sit behind me, taking the comb from my hand and gently does it himself. He takes his time, making sure that every strand is properly combed through before he places a kiss on the top of my shoulder. He carefully wraps the comb back in my dress and places it back. He reaches over and takes a small sprig of flowers from the bowl and tucks it into my hair above my ear.

“Fridr,” he whispers into my ear, causing me to blush. I learned this word yesterday, and while I’ve never thought I was beautiful, he’s made me feel like I am.

Laying in what has become our bed, he puts the fur of what I believe to be a fox under my head as he always does to keep the scratchy hay off my face and pulls me to him. I happily comply, feeling more comfortable with our closeness each day. At home, it was improper for a man to even so much as touch your hand if unmarried, but here… here it is different. No one seems to care that he holds my hand or that we stay together at night. They even let him into the hut and smiled as he combed my hair for me. It’s so different, but I find that I like it.

Anders pushes a curl back from my face, his fingers rough from work, gently grazing against my skin. “Minn,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

I asked Catherine today what it meant. He says it to me often when we’re alone, and I really wanted to know. “Mine,” she told me with a smile. “It means that you’re his.”

“Ost Mín,” I say to him, having learned the local phrase for “my love” earlier.

His face lights up, and he leans in, kissing me softly. “Ost Mín,” he whispers softly into the night. “Minn.”

He holds his hand up against mine, his large fingers engulfing mine as they twist together. I lean forward, gently placing my hand on his strong jaw and my lips on his. His hand lands on my hip, pulling me to him as he pulls his lips back with a small smile. He wraps his arms around me tightly, tucking me into him as his chin rests on my head, leaving me to feel safe and secure in his loving arms.