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"It's called a sauna. The hot water warms the air and soothes our bones. It helps with the pain. Ivar could use one for the days in which he breaks his bones." The large bath brims with hot water. Bubbles swash as Ivar shifts with pain newly soothed. His hands glide in front of his cock as if to hide it from your view. You stand with Dyr on your shoulder opposite of the one with a long braid.
"How often will he break his bones?" Freydis asks.
"Less than he will as an old man. It is nothing he cannot handle." You explain. Freydis stands with a throbbing headache that you quite catch onto because her under eyes are lined with creases of exhaustion. She looks as if she needs a nap... or rather a night to herself. While the child was brewing, you thought she should take her time. You shift to set a hand innocently to the rounding swell of her stomach.
"You should go rest for the baby. He is likely as tired as you are." You explain. "I can care for Ivar."
"You will be alright here?"
"Oh, I can manage with the help of his men... and Sigrunn." You take a look back to where Rorik stands. He draws his woolen cloak around his shoulders, securing it in place with a tree-like brooch. "Rorik will take you back."
Rorik's head shoots up, eyebrows raising up high on his forehead. Nooooo, he mouthes. However, your invitation settles fondly in Freydis's ear.
"Yes," She agrees, "Rorik would be fine company."
The light in Rorik's eyes goes out and is replaced with exasperation. You know by the way he leisurely sheathes his sword on the latched belt of his waist. He bends at the waist in respect for your request despite his stomach clenching and roiling. Then standing up, he walks as if his back is stiff. He slides behind you, offering Freydis his arm from the side that has a smaller amount of cloak.
"I'll see you another day," Rorik says low and rough. The mere tone makes you think that you might have to make up for what you've done later. He brings your hand not busy with your crutch to his lips to place a comforting kiss to your knuckle. While ignoring Ivar's pointed glare deep from the water, he motions Freydis to take the first steps to the door. As the door closes with a heavy slam, you turn back to your best friend who has now shifted with his hands one over the other over the rim.
"Did I trample on your private time?" He says, hardly a question and more a statement. You hobble closer and consider his words.
"It is fine." You denote the ache of your pussy for your prince who by now was far away. "I rather take care of you."
Ivar's lips part, momentarily stunted in the admission. A woman that rather care for him than care for their own sexual appetite reminds him of his late mother. He looks down the pleasant embroidery of your dress.
"You confuse me." Ivar shifts his head to sit on top of his arms crossed over the rim. You dip down carefully so, spilling just a bit of fine oil into his water. Sigrunn rushes to support you with a chair beside the king. You thank your honey haired girl and hand her Dyr to lock away within his spacious cage.
