Chapter 12 - A Gift and a Lesson

I stare at the new, large wooden tub in our room with awe. It's filled with hot water. Actual hot water. That is steam billowing off the surface!

Wait, but how?

Maybe I don't care. I audibly gulp, eyeing it hungrily as my sore, stiff muscles long for it's sweet, warm embrace to engulf me.

It's made of vertical oak planks, assembled in a way that tapers slightly towards the bottom with a metal hoop securing it both there and at the middle. A bar of lye soap sits on a side of it's curved, top edge, and an empty wooden bucket sits nearby on the floor. It's the most beautiful thing I've seen after a long day of training and the spontaneous ritual I participated in earlier this morning.

I want to be excited, I really do, but I can't help but wonder who really built this and filled it with hot water. Thralls? The thought makes my heart sink.

"Do you like it?" Froðes asks, an eagerness in his voice.

I hesitate...

"I made some modifications since my last version was leaking...It shouldn't have that problem now."

Wait, he made it?!

Speechless, as I'm still trying to comprehend what he just told me, I approach the tub and dip my hand in. It's the perfect temperature. How long did it take to heat the water from the river and fill this thing???

"Did you...do this for me?" I ask, bewildered once again by the lengths he is going to make me more comfortable.

"I noticed you were not fond having to bathe in the river...and you did not have the chance this morning," he says. "I also prefer to have a private bathing quarters. So I will enjoy it's benefits as well," he says.

I turn to look at him over my shoulder. He's wearing his usual smirk, but beneath that I can see that his ice blue eyes hide an expression I've never seen him wear before. He almost looks...vulnerable. That's fucking wild.

"Thank you, Froðe. It's perfect," I say, and genuinely smile at his thoughtfulness.

His eyes widen and his breath silently hitches in response.

My smile falters. "What?"

"You've never said my name before."

Yeah I have...I think. Oh, I guess not to his face. I've been too busy challenging him on various topics whenever we're actually together. Not sorry.

"Oh."

We stare at each other in silence for a few moments. Well...this is awkward.

Froðe picks up on that instantly, clears his throat and turns to leave.

"I will leave you to it then. I meet with Einar and Torsten, anyways."

I nod, but his back is already turned and he's out the door.

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I'm gloriously soaking minutes later, grateful for this handcrafted tub that Froðe somehow built in secret. Ok, modified. It's such a luxury that I never thought I'd experience again, a hot bath! I can feel my aches and pains slowly melting away into the tub along with my worries, and I sigh in bliss as I rest my head on the back. I playfully swirl the water with my hand, wondering what the plan is for when the trading ship arrives. Will the merchants question what happened here? Or will it matter to them as long as they get paid in gold from the monastery?

Stolen gold.

I sink further into the tub, my head submerging under the water, as Froðe's justification of why his clan raids comes back to me. Is that really what it's like here? A way of life? I sigh, blowing bubbles through my nose to the surface. The Norn I spoke to today in the ritual told me that I had to adapt in order to survive essentially, but that's easier said than done in this world.

And what was that part about drowning? I think. Your journey will seem long and never ending. Your heart will become weary. And you shall be no stranger to pain.

As far as fortunes go, that's a pretty bad one. Guess this life is not going to be easy.

I come back to the surface, gasping in air and opening my eyes. Well, as one of my favorite fantasy writers used to say, the road goes ever on. We'll figure it out as we go along, I think with newfound resolve.

Sitting up on my knees, I look to the lye soap sitting on the edge of the bath and grab it with my wet fingers. As I begin to scrub, I catch the scent of mint and thyme. Froðe's scent. Great, now I'm going to smell like him, I think and roll my eyes. But secretly, deep down, maybe I do enjoy the scent. Would this be the same bar he uses? I pause mid scrub of my shoulders, looking down at it, thinking about where it's likely been when he used it last...annnnd suddenly an image of his shirtless, chiseled torso flashes before my eyes.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Fuck! I blink my eyes shut, dropping the soap, and it lands with a splash into the tub.

With a sigh, I locate the elusive soap and finish scrubbing my body and then hair before doing one last dunk in the tub to rinse off. As I emerge, rubbing water from my eyes, I hear a distinct croak close by. Very close.

What was that?

As soon as the water is out of my eyes, I look over towards the sound, only to find no other than Huginn perched on the edge of my tub, head cocked as he studies me.

"OH MY GOD!" I screech, jumping away from him in the tub, the motion causing water to splash dangerously close to the edge. Lightning flashes outside the window, thunder booming shortly after to add to the creepiness factor. "Huginn....you startled me." I cover myself with my arms, because who knows how much that bird shares with Froðe with their weird telepathic connection thing going on.

"Kraa!" Huginn croaks, his taloned feet scraping along the rim of the tub so that he turns to face the beds.

Did...he just turn away to give me a sense of privacy??

"Cruck... Kra..." He dips his head up and down, his beak motioning to the beds.

I follow his gaze, and see that there is another, fresh set of women's clothes on my bed. I raise an eyebrow. Can a raven carry clothes? Am I losing my mind?

Reluctantly, I stand from the tub, water streaming down my body while I grab a linen towel draped nearby to dry off. I wrap it around me and tuck in a corner, before carefully stepping out of the tub and Huginn scoots out of my way as I do so. Eyeing him and wondering how the heck he got in here, I pad over to the bed and fresh set of clothes.

As I get closer, I actually notice two sets. One is a new shift and underdress, although this one is a sky blue, opposed to the deep blue one discarded on the floor near the tub. The other pile appears to be a set for training or fighting: a purple long sleeved tunic, a dark blue skirt with an open front for ease of movement, black wool trousers and leather armor made in the shape of a bustier. Not going to lie, it looks pretty bad ass, and the thoughtfulness of getting me clothes for further training makes something deep inside me stir again. I stomp it back down.

Huggin flies over and lands on the headboard of Froðe's bed, eyeing the clothes and then me.

"Cruck...Cruck.." He tilts his head.

"Tell him...thank you for me. It will be nice to have clothes that are easier to train in." Am I really talking to a raven? Also, how the heck did he get all this in here?

But Huginn seems satisfied with my answer, as he flaps off the bed and towards the window. He hobbles on the sill, using his beak to sift through the linen flaps before taking flight into the early evening sky. Did he carry them through the window?

I decide to just shrug it off to the mystical nature of this world, and make quick work of changing. Glancing back at the tub, I debate if I should use the water to wash my older set of clothes or not. The water is still warm enough. It doesn't seem like the clan has many sets of clothes, so they likely wash them frequently.

Before I have the chance to try, there's a knock on the door.

"Evenin' meal Lass!" I hear Torsten say on the other side of the door. "Yeh be'r come n eat or all that train'in won' do yeh much."

"Coming!" I guess I'll figure out the clothes washing later.

Oddly enough, Froðe isn't at dinner. So I sit next to Torsten and happily sink my teeth into some roast chicken and vegetables. The others eye me from across the table, but otherwise leave me alone for the duration of the meal. I find it odd that I haven't seen a single Thrall. Are they hiding them somewhere? Or did they ship them all off to be sold somewhere?

After most of the clansmen and women finish eating, they start up their nightly ritual by circling the fire and preparing for rest. Outside, the sun is setting. I'm starting to realize that the vikings live their lives in sync with the cycle of the sun: waking when it rises and sleeping when it sets, and eating two large meals in between. It's going to take some getting used to not having a lunchtime, as so far in every evening meal I've been savagely obliterating my plate, earning me stares from the others and a toothy grin from Torsten.

It's not long after I finish eating that sleep starts to call to me, my muscles once again stiff after sitting for so long. I wince as I ease out of the chair I was sitting in, and Torsten laughs.

"Yeh be'r get used to it Lass, as yeh have a long road ahead of yeh."

I nod. "Oh don't I know. But despite how I can barely move right now, I do appreciate the training," I say. Torsten winks, settling back into his meal.

I bid Torsten good night and head back to our room.

Opening the door, I realize I really should have knocked. Because in the tub is Froðe. Naked. Leaned back, his large torso so tall his head rests on the tall edge, with his eyes shut. His sandy blonde hair is completely unbound, loose waves draping over his shoulders and slightly wet. His burly arms rest on either edge of the tub, and beads of water glisten on his scarred chest. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, I can't see more than that from here. Why does he have to be so hot?

Oh fuck.

I freeze, door still open.

Froðe opens one eye, then closes it again lazily.

"For someone who appreciates her privacy so much, you don't seem to offer the same courtesy to others."

"Says the man who had his raven come scare the shit out of me while I was bathing," I shoot back. "A raven he also shares telepathic powers with."

Froðe snorts. "He meant you no harm...I think he's just curious about you."

Curious about me? If he was a normal raven I wouldn't mind as much, but I definitely don't want Froðe's raven spy keeping tabs on me constantly.

I'm about to turn back to the dining area to give him some privacy, but a wave of exhaustion hits me and I start to sway a little on my feet.

"I actually don't mind you staying if you need to rest. Just shut the door," Froðe says.

I hesitate. But I really am fucking tired. In the end, logic wins and I shut the door closed behind me, tearing off my boots one by one then shuffling my way over to the bed. I'm too tired to even be weirded out that he used my same bathwater, but then again, it does make sense not to waste a hot bath if it's still warm. What stumps me is how he got in here without me noticing at dinner.

Maybe I really am that tired.

I collapse into the furs of my bed, not even bothering to take off my overdress. Rolling over to my side, I distance myself from the light of the fat lamp and give Froðe some semblance of privacy. Lesson learned, I think sleepily. I definitely will knock or pay more attention to avoid this awkwardness next time. I pull the furs over with me and nestle into them.

"Rest well, fiery one," Froðe says softly.

Some time later, as I'm half asleep, I hear him rise from the tub and blow out the fat lamp. Then darkness takes me once again.