Actually…not Ægir’s Captive but Ægir’s Wife. I am sure that those of you who have followed this story will appreciate the changes in Kirsty. Here is the roughest draft of the opening for Chapter Nine…the rest is coming…
Kirsty stared out over the relatively smooth waters of the North Sea. Even though it was after ten, the sun had still not fully set this far north. Was it prophetic somehow? When she had left all those months ago, it had been dark almost all day and night. Now at the height of summer it was just the opposite…almost constant sunlight.
It certainly felt like that. Well except for Sven’s recovery, which she more than any of them realized might be long and perhaps never fully. But they would deal with that too. Just as they had dealt with so much already. They had weathered life’s storms…and now it was sunshine once more.
Of course, she was not naïve enough to believe there would not be more storms to come but with the new resolve and the lessons they had all learned from these, she was confident that they could face those as a family. They would do what it took…whatever it took…and they would come out on the other side of those storms too.
She inhaled deeply, allowing the fresh, cool sea breeze to fill not just her lungs but her soul with its cleansing and healing power. She felt one of the twins move inside her, but before she could place a gentle hand over the tiny foot to calm her sister joined in the fray. Both girls dancing and stretching.
Bjorn was at the helm this night. She had never seen him happier. Even she had not fully realized the stress that these past few months in London had placed upon those broad shoulders. Not until she saw the light that dawned in those Kelly green eyes of his the moment they had stepped on board of Ægir’s Captive.
Captive? She was not their captive this time. Not as she had been the last time anyway. But these men had certainly captured her heart. Each of them in different ways. But each of them fully and completely. Different, unique but all with the same veracity.
Bjorn…she chuckled as she shook her head. No one would picture a man like that with someone like her. But over these past few months she had come to accept that this man loved her…just as she was. No diets. No gym. He loved her mind. He loved her heart. And yes as much as she might sometimes have trouble believing it…he loved her curves too. Running into Greta had proven that.
She smiled as she lifted her face to setting sun, absorbing its final warming rays as the breeze rustled through her hair, whipping it about her face. She would never be model thin like G but that was all right because she was so much smarter than that woman ever had been.
In some weird, warped way she owed that woman a debt of gratitude. By rejecting the life that Mikael had offered for her runways and shoots, Greta had set the course that had driven them to her…just as surely as Bjorn had set one on the boat that would take them home. No, she was the one that had reaped the harvest…the only truly good fruits that woman had ever sown. Monika, her first daughter, and Mikael were all that she could have ever imagined.
She giggled as she remembered that first night on board this ship. When given the chance, she had chosen Mikael because she had sought an alley in her plans to escape. Oh, Mikael had proven an alley all right. Her rock, the one that she could turn to for comfort, pain and understanding when Bjorn was battling his jealousy…or Sven was…being an ass.
She sighed as her hand softly rubbed the baby mound. Sven… She still was not certain how to handle that one. But she had a new powerful weapon in her arsenal. Æ ælske dæ. I love you. How could she not have known? It was not that different from ‘Jeg elsker deg.’ But she had always struggled with languages. Her ear simply had not made that all important connection.
No, she might be going back without a solid plan, but the knowledge that Sven too loved her just as his brothers did gave her faith that somehow they too would find a way…over time.
She closed her eyes and lifted her face as a gentle spray of sea water caressed her cheeks. Home. Homdling as Monika had renamed it. The one place in this world that truly felt like that word to her. Though that probably had as much to do with them as it did the place.