She turned, seeing him there in the doorway, his face and eyes cloudy with drink but just as fierce, just as angry as they had been back on the path.

“I have to finish my work.” she said.

Rolf laughed, his face scrunching up in a small scowl before he came closer. She could smell him then, smell the drink and the horses on him as he towered over her. And then his fingers were in her hair, pulling and yanking her head back so she was staring up at those dark eyes.

“Stop,” she said, “I have to…”

“Shut up.” he snapped.

That was when she felt it, that same fear that had struck her back by the river, now it claimed her again. It sat on her chest and blurred her vision. Now it stole the breath from her so she could not even scream. She felt him reaching under her cloak and pulling up her undershirt. It was the feel of his fingers on her skin that broke the spell, that cleared her sight and had her gasping.

“No, stop.” she said, pushing on his chest. “I said stop it.”

“Quiet!”

He pushed her, slamming her against the wall and reaching even further. She froze then, feeling his fingers between her legs, pushing and sliding up places no one had ever been before.

No… No, this wasn’t right, this wasn’t happening… Oh God, was she about to lose her virtue like this?! She pushed him again, this time harder, this time grunting with the effort.

“I said stop!”

That hand broke free of her. For a moment she thought he’d listened, for a moment she thought it was over; but then she heard it, that crack of his fist slamming into her cheek long before she felt the pain. Now her vision was gone, now the only thing holding her up was that hand still gripping her hair. She felt them again, those fingers that slid inside her, that poked and prodded and made her feel sick to her stomach.

But this time she could only whimper. She closed her eyes then, knowing that soon it would be much worse. And then she heard her, Little Frigga crying up in that loft and knew that there was no way she could go to her. Somehow that made it all worse. Somehow it was like listening to the cries that were building inside her own chest but she had no way to let out.

“Enid!” Ivar snapped.

Rolf froze, those eyes glaring down at her, his face scrunching up in a fierce scowl. He slammed her into the wall again, a whimper escaping her as she doubled over in pain; and then he let her go. She took a step forward, slowly at first and then much quicker. Soon she was tearing from the room and clutching her cloak tightly around her.

And then she froze, catching sight of those sky-blue eyes and stifling that sob she felt stirring inside her. Ivar stared at her, his eyes lingering on her face, on her lips and never even blinking. So slowly she reached a finger up. So sticky and warm was that blood she wiped from her lips. She looked back at him, not knowing what to say, only knowing that if she opened her mouth she would start to cry and would not be able to stop. And then he took a step back, jerking his head towards the ladder without saying a word, his eyes fixed on the doorway to the backroom.