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Dara stirred awake, then closed her eyes again. As she stretched out in the bed, her mind tried to recapture the provocative dream she’d had. She recalled her skin had tingled throughout her deep slumber. In her dream, her body had tensed with anticipated rapture, desired for release, yet remained unfulfilled.
“Valkyrie.”
Dara’s hazy eyes focused on the warm voice. Was it real or from her dream?
“Hmmm?” She held the blanket over her chest while she sat up.
“How do you feel?”
Dara gazed over Lothar’s lengthy body and smiled. “Hungry,” she replied smacking her lips. She watched him saunter to the table and cut some bread and cheese. His agile movement made her shiver as her body sensuously remembered he was the man in her dream. She dreamt of him lying next to her, holding her in his arms. Closing her eyes, she imagined his hands stroking her back, caressing the curve of her hip as her body nestled against his. The tantalizing feeling, so real, heightened her sensitivity to touch. She rolled her head and neck against her shoulders, and her hair rippled across her bare back, sending shivers of pleasure through her body.
“For you,” Lothar said, and kneeled by the bedside.
She opened her eyes and turned to face him. She watched as he placed a sliver of cheese upon the sliced bread. She reached for the morsel.
“No,” he pulled it back from her hands. “I will feed it to you.”
Dara blushed, when he raised a slice to her mouth, and brushed the edge of crust across her lower lip. She parted her lips for the bread he tempted her with. Dara closed her eyes, when she bit into the soft bread and cheese, and chewed slowly while the flavors mixed inside her mouth. She breathed deeply, and exhaled as her eyes opened. Another bite of bread and cheese waited for her.
“I can feed myself.”
“I know, but grant me this one pleasure.”
“Pleasure?” Dara flinched, and pulled the blanket up to her chin. “What exactly happened last night?”
“I took take of your needs.”
“You removed my clothes?”
“No, you did.”
“Anything else?”
“You were very cold.”
“And?”
“You needed warming.”
“How?”
“I tried to get you to eat some soup.”
“You made soup?”
“Yes, but you ate very little.”
“Is there any more soup?”
“I finished it for my meal. It’s past sunset now.”
“So, how exactly did you warm me?”
“Valkyrie, your body would not warm up under the blanket.” He set the bread on the platter, turned and paced the floor.
“And.”
He stopped in front of the pallet. “I warmed you up with my body by lying next to you.”
“Under the covers?” She leaned back against the pillow.
“Yes.”
“So it wasn’t a dream then,” she whispered.
“You look better than you did last night.”
“I feel better.” She smiled recalling the way her body felt last night, and then her stomach growled. “But I am still hungry.” She sat again, the blanket lowered back over her breasts.
“I am relieved.” Lothar bent down, and picked up the bread again. “Now eat.”
* * *
LOTHAR NOTICED FOR an instant, when Dara reached for the bread, the blanket fell away from her right side revealing the enticing curve beneath.
Lothar swallowed hard, and his shaft sprang to life. He watched her auburn tresses cascade forward over her shoulders, blocking his view of her breast. He almost groaned when the blanket was tucked back into place, hiding her curves underneath.
He released the bread into fingers that brushed against his own, and watched her take another bite.
“Mmmm,” she moaned while she chewed.
The soft sounds she made, while she enjoyed the taste of the food, teased his mind. He decided he had to get his mind off her lips.
“I have a few things to show you.” He strolled over, picked up the figures, and placed them next to her on the pallet.
“This is Thor holding Mjolnir, his hammer.” Lothar pointed to the largest of the three figures. “Thor is Odin’s son, and the God of Thunder.”
“Is there a meaning to him holding the hammer?”
“Thor holding Mjolnir is a symbol of my solemn promise to protect you.”
He watched Dara trace the outline of the hammer with her finger.
He cleared his throat. “This next one is a Valkyrie holding a goblet,” Lothar said, and pointed to the tiny statue of a woman in a long dress. “The figure does not do you justice, Dara.”
He noted her cheeks turn pink, as she placed the figure on her lap next to the first one. She pointed to the last figure.
“And this one?”
“Frey.” Lothar placed the small wooden carving in her hand. “He is the God of fertility.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. She gazed at the seated figure, turning it in her hand. “Oh no, I must have broken his beard.”
Lothar chuckled. “No Valkyrie, his beard is correct.”
“Then what is this part ... Oh!’
“Remember Valkyrie, he is called the fertility God, and proves it quite well.”
“You’ve been busy, Lothar. How long was I lying here?”
“Since yesterday.”
“You used your cuff to pay my taxes.”
“It’s my fault that Sinséar was taken, after I asked you to trust me.”
“How will you get back home now?”
“I will find a way, Valkyrie. Someday, I will return home. Besides, I felt great after the fight, especially when I hit the stout one in the jaw. I’m ready for battle, if needed.”
“He will not forget and will retaliate, Lothar.”
“I have a signed paper stating the taxes are paid, and the extra to go to them. I believe they will leave you alone for a while.”
“Humph,” murmured Dara as she handed him the three figures. She reclined, pulled the covers up to her chin, and shifted her body away from him.
“What is wrong?” Lothar asked.
“I’m tired.”
“Sleep then, Valkyrie.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. Rising, he placed the figures on the table. Then he grabbed his rabbit pelt and walked outside, closing the door quietly behind him.
Lothar wrapped the pelt around his shoulders, to keep the chilly night air away. He decided a brisk walk would feel good and calm his body.
A flake of snow landed on his nose. He looked up and watched flakes fall and scatter the ground. He strode out to the forest line, and walked its perimeter, keeping the hut within sight in case she needed him. Rabbit tracks made a path along the edge of the forest, but he decided to leave them be for the night.
He remembered that as a child, he had looked forward to the first snowfall of the season. His family and friends had gathered in the longhouse, to celebrate the coming of Yule, to honor Odin and the return of the sun. The great feast of roasted elk would be held for the entire village to take part in and enjoy the merriment.
Now, so far from home, the sight of snow did not lift his spirits.
He walked back to the shelter of the sheep and fed the animals for the night. Returning to the hut, he quietly stepped back inside, removed the pelt, and placed it on the stool.
Lothar sighed heavily, as loneliness surrounded him. He picked up his blanket and wrapped it tight around his shoulders, then curled up on the floor, while he listened to Dara’s soft snore.
He shivered, remembering the warmth they created as her body lay next to his. Last night was torture. The time spent under the covers, with her laying comfortably his arms, had been filled with so much promise, if he’d sought to satisfy his desires.
He grumbled. The cold hard ground tempered his body and mood. He jerked his arm backwards when he felt his injured shoulder muscle spasm, and grimaced quietly until the pain subsided.
