Re: Hedeby: Lagertha/Ragnar She was the wife that he had always known. Not the wife that she swore he took after her, the one that bore him more sons, but the one who had already borne him a son and a daughter, who had been pregnant the last time he saw her before Jacks's bright lights, but said now that she had lost their child. She was the one he followed here though she could have made the trip alone, in order to be closer to her.
And now he was, now his hands could open and he would be touching her, but for the censure in her voice. Now was not the time. The husband that she had used as an excuse to keep him from getting too close was dead, and all Ragnar wanted was a chance to have her in his arms again. But not now, now there was too much of a chance that it would not end there but end as so many of their nights did, with the scent of her on his skin, clothes shorn and their bodies wrapped in furs.
He would not mind that so much, but he had not hid this from her on their trip to her home, nor any day before that. The sound of her voice, low and warm as it was, reminded him of other things that she would say when they were wrapped around one another. An inch and they would be touching, they were close enough now that he could feel the faint edge of her breath on his skin but it was little more than a tease compared to all the things he did want.
His head bowed in acceptance, even as the sound that came out of him was closer to a growl as he stepped away, forcing the distance between them. This far he would not find it so easy to reach for her, to see if he might nuzzle up to her throat, whisper in her ear as he used to in an attempt to change her mind. Later, if the gods willed it. Now was - "Go to them."