Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland 1)

I stared into his eyes. Then I whispered, “Okay,” because really, what else could I do? He sounded pretty freaking serious.

His eyes shifted from serious to soft and then they smiled.

Then he repeated, “Okay.”

I sucked in an unsteady breath.

Then I said, “Though, um… just to say, if you’re going to vow to keep me safe I’d kinda like you to vow to keep you safe too.” His soft eyes started to warm and I rushed on, “You know, because… well, who’ll chop the wood and lug it into the house if you’re assassinated or something?”

The soft warmth of his eyes took on another smile and he muttered, “My wife does not like carrying wood.”

“It isn’t my favorite chore,” I admitted. “My time is better spent baking pies.”

The smile reached his mouth before he murmured, “Then I best stay around to do it.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

He moved his head and brushed his nose against mine.

Then he whispered, “Then I’ll vow to keep me safe too…” he paused, “so I can be around to chop wood.”

“And lug it in the house,” I added.

“And lug it in the house,” he agreed.

I stared into his eyes, so beautiful, so close and felt his arms, so strong, so tight, and felt his body, so big, so powerful, all of it making me feel so… very… safe and the trembling stopped.

Then I slid my face to the side and tucked it in his neck as I slid my arms around his body and held on tight.

I felt Frey tip his head so his lips where at my ear when he asked, “Are you all right now, my wee Finnie?”

“No, not really but give me a minute and I’ll get there.”

He kissed my neck.

That made me feel better.

Then he held me and I held on until I felt totally better. Or, at least, better enough to change into my nightgown.

Then I whispered, “I’m good now Frey. I need to go change for bed.”

“All right, Finnie,” he agreed, his arms loosening, “hurry.”

I pulled away, looked at him, gave him a small smile then leaned in to give him a quick lip touch.

Then I moved away and hurried.

I was back in bed, held tight to my husband’s side, cradling his thigh in less than five minutes.

It took me a lot longer to find sleep.

But eventually I did it.

* * * * *

“Frey?” I called.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his arm around my back giving me a squeeze, “you’re trembling again, wife.”

“Bad dream.”

He rolled into me and both his strong arms went around me.

“Hold on,” he ordered gently and my arm already around him tightened.

He held me and I tried to find sleep.

I couldn’t so I called, “Frey?”

“I’m here.”

I hesitated.

Then I said so quietly, I wondered if he heard me, “You were so good at it.”

He heard me, his arms got tighter but he said nothing.

“You’ve had lots of practice, haven’t you?” I asked.

“Sleep, wife,” he said on a squeeze.

Yep, he had lots of practice killing people.

Ho boy.

“Just tell me one thing,” I said softly. “Were they bad guys?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment then I heard his head shift on the pillow and with his lips against the top of my hair, he whispered, “Most of them.”

Oh God.

“No enemy is all bad, Finnie,” he told me gently. “They’re just the enemy.”

I nodded my head on the pillow for this was undoubtedly true.

Frey kept talking. “But the men tonight were paid to kill a newlywed man and his wife,” his arms gave me a squeeze, “I lose no sleep for them and you shouldn’t either.”

“But you were awake,” I pointed out.

“Yes, I was, because my wee wife trembles against me in her sleep,” he informed me.

God, that was sweet.

“Sorry, Frey,” I whispered.

“Do not be sorry, be drowsy,” he ordered.

I smiled and pressed closer to my husband.

Then I whispered, “Thanks for saving my life.”

He didn’t answer.

He just gave me another tight squeeze.

Chapter Twelve

Return to Fyngaard

We didn’t leave at dawn; we left three hours before it. But considering the sun kissed the sky around nine in the morning, this wasn’t that early. Nevertheless, with a restless night of sleep that included several awakenings, I was exhausted.

Luckily, I had packed the trunks and Frey had loaded the sleigh the day before. However, even if we hadn’t done this, it would have been made light work of by the tall, burly men who were to ride with us.

Before leaving, I met them briefly. Thad and Ruben were among them. Then there was Annar, Orion, Stephan (pronounced Steh-fawn), Gunner, Maximilian (but he told me everyone called him Max and invited me to do so too), Lund and Oleg.

Oleg, I learned when Frey pulled me up in front of him on Tyr, was driving my sleigh which had the horses set to and was ready to go by the time I wandered sleepily outside wearing a cloak Frey chose for me (due to its warmness) that was made of white fur pelts dusted with black and gray hairs, gloves and a furry hat that matched the cloak.

By the way, all of my fabulous outerwear was over a gown I chose for the purpose of meeting my parents, a softer than soft winter white cashmere that had an intricately crocheted, low, square neckline and a matching crocheted belt, so long, its ends hung to the hem of my skirt. I’d added a pair of fabulous fur-lined, over-the-knee charcoal gray suede, low-heeled boots and select pieces of very elegant but understated jewelry.

Yes, it was the wee hours of the morning when Frey woke me and told me to get ready. And yes, we were going to be travelling all day, on the back of a horse no less. But also, I would be seeing my parents at the end of our journey, they didn’t seem to like Sjofn much and I wanted to make a good impression.

So, off we went, the sleigh led by a big, black horse added to my grays (Oleg’s mount).

The day before, I had asked and Frey had agreed to take the ride slower so we could stop in some of the villages on the way because I wanted to have a closer look and so we could have a break (and the horses could too) and something to eat. We were even going to spend the night in one of them so I could be rested and have the time to get presentable to meet my parents.

This plan went out the window with the assassination attempt (understandably) and we were to press on swiftly and get to Fyngaard without delay.