It was not the first time Naaja had gone to meet with a lion her family had arranged for her to marry. As much as she wished otherwise, this was familiar territory. Just like last time, it was a match made for political reasons, and just like last time, neither she nor her betrothed had been given a say in the matter.

There were some differences though. The most important was that before she had been betrothed to an ally, and now she was being betrothed to an enemy she must somehow make an ally. Going into her first betrothal, Naaja had been cautiously optimistic, hopeful that she and Tallskog might be able to forge a future together. It was hard to feel that same optimism now.

Just looking at her betrothed, she shivered. He was good-looking, in the powerful and very Stormborn way that had always appealed to her, but that wasn't what made her shiver. It was the way his mother had looked at her, like she was scum, and the way he looked through her, like she wasn't even there. What kind of future could she forge with a lion like that?

In reality, Skjoldr wasn't actually looking through Naaja. He was looking past her, but that fine of a distinction would have been lost on the lioness anyway. He was looking past her because he had reached the conclusion that it didn't make any difference what she looked like, or whether he was attracted to her. That wasn't the purpose of their marriage, and it was a good thing. She seemed like a frigid, high-maintenance b***h who would not want him touching her.

Given the impression he had gotten, it came as a surprise to Skjoldr when Naaja's first words to him, other than the very formal greeting they had both given, were to ask him if his den in the forest would accommodate them both as well as cubs. From the look on her face after she asked, she had not planned to say that. He didn't mind though. It was good that she could be practical.

"I was under the impression that I am expected to make a home with you in the stronghold," Skjoldr replied. "So that the pride can see how nicely your family and mine aren't killing one another."

He politely left unsaid all the reasons he thought his family had a perfectly valid right to annihilate hers. It occurred to him in a wry though that it was no doubt this "political savvy" of his that had won him the dubious honor of being selected to marry Naaja in the first place. Maybe he should say something horrible. Except now she was talking and it was too late. Besides, he couldn't think of anything really horrible to say. That was more his mother's sort of thing than his.

"That...makes sense," Naaja said, very conscious of what Skjoldr wasn't saying. She knew. It was impossible for her not to know after having Burzum as a near-constant companion for so long. If Skjoldr hated her even half as much as his cousin, hers would be a truly wretched lot. But maybe he didn't. He had, after all, held his tongue, and he needn't have done that.

"I can pick out a den, if you like," she offered. Now that she had allowed herself to consider how much her betrothed might truly hate her, it was difficult for her to keep her calm, and she found herself babbling. "Or you can, if you prefer. It's just that I probably know the stronghold better. Not that you couldn't find something suitable, I just...It's a lioness's job to make a home."

Skjoldr listened with some bewilderment as Naaja began to talk very rapidly about finding a den, or having him find them a den, or...something. He could tell that she was afraid, and he supposed it must be of him. The thought was both astonishing and appealing. But, of course, she must know she was safe from him. He could not abuse her and carry on a charade of a functional marriage.

"Find a den that you like. It will be an adjustment for me to sleep in stone no matter what." He hoped that would stop her talking about it. He didn't really care where they lived. He didn't plan to spend much time in "their" den anyway. He would become a reaver and spend as much time viking as possible.

Naaja nodded and forced herself to stop talking. It was not easy to limit herself to simply saying, "All right."

"And, is there anything you...? I mean, what will you expect from me, as your wife?" She wasn't pleased with how childish she sounded, but at least she had gotten the words out and asked the question. There was no doubt in Naaja's mind that Skjoldr would find some way to shame or humiliate her. Had their positions been reversed, she would have been tempted to do the same, and as a forest-raised lion she didn't doubt that he was more savage than she. He was probably capable of cruelties she couldn't even imagine.

Skjoldr looked at her now as he had not done before, trying to figure out if she was setting him up for some embarrassment. He didn't doubt that she would do that as often as she was able. After all, what cause had she to make his life easier, or give a single s**t about his preferences? She was supposed to be a heinous b***h, according to Burzum, and her betrothal to him had ended a betrothal she had actually been pleased about. He fully expected her to want to make him suffer for his part in that, even though he played it unwillingly.

"We will probably be expected to have cubs. Again, to show how nicely we aren't killing one another. I expect that those cubs will be mine, and not Tallskog Gavedson's."

"I see," she said in a chilly tone she had not used before. "Is there anything else?"

Suddenly Skjoldr realized that she had actually been making an effort before, and he had just offended her deeply. He didn't know why he had said that. It had been unnecessary, and it was clear from Naaja's face that he had shocked her before that shock turned to wounded pride. He knew he should apologize, but he couldn't do it.

"Nothing comes to mind at the moment." He was distancing himself, looking past her again before she could turn into a raging b***h. At least his upbringing as Kazul's son had given him experience in dealing with bitches.

"Very well. And can I expect fidelity from you?" Naaja immediately wished she could take the question back. They were sniping at one another, and while he had certainly given offense by implying that she would cuckold him, she could imagine why he would expect it of her.

"I will not do anything to jeopardize the truce between your family and mine," Skjoldr said gravely.

It was meant to be reassuring, but to Naaja it sounded like evasion and her heart sank a little more. This was going to be wretched. There was no way the two of them would find happiness together. There was no trust, and no reason to trust, except in the truce their marriage represented.

"Nor will I," she promised, but it didn't feel like it was enough. In the end, it wouldn't be.

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