"The Lost Vikings" (closed to AmyRoberts)

[AmyRoberts]

Hafdan and Clara

Clara felt a rush of cold air upon her ass when Hafdan threw her dress and shift up to her waist. She giggled again, then cried out in a mix of pain, surprise, and pleasure as he rammed a portion of his cock into her without warning or foreplay. She looked back over her shoulder, laughed, and growled, "Heathen."

He only rammed her again, this time harder and deeper, and Clara cried out again. Soon, though, the pain vanished and only pleasure existed, and just as energetically as the Viking was thrusting forward, the English woman was shoving backward, little soft cries of delight escaping her throat with each exhale. Repeatedly, she urged, "Fuck me, heathen, fuck me."

 

[AmyRoberts]

Ingrid was more than happy to take control of the action when Hagan rolled her atop him. Without hesitation, she began moving her body forward and back over his groin, driving his full length deep inside her with one motion and pulling nearly out with the next.

She looked into his eyes with the most satisfied expression, delighted that finally after so long she was feeling him inside of her. Ingrid wanted to please Hagan, to push him to ecstasy, but even more so she wanted to orgasm herself. She found a rhythm that caused her such pleasure, her clit rubbing back and forth against the under side of his shaft, then slamming against it as she took his full length inside.

Ingrid knew when Hagan came from his sounds, expression, and body language, but she hadn't reached her peak yet. She continued onward, even faster and more energetically until finally she threw her head back and cried out into the night to the incredible euphoria that was suddenly washing over her entire being.

She pushed onward until the ecstasy overwhelmed her ability to control her body, and with a great gasp, she fell forward upon her lover's body, panting as her heart pounded in her chest, in her ears, everywhere.

 

[TimTimTyner]

Hafdan and Clara

Hafdan slammed his groin against Clara's ass and thighs hard and fast, sinking his shaft deep into her again and again. His gaze moved between her face -- she frequently looked back, taunting him on -- and her ass, which moved in waves with each pounding against her. But his eyes also went to the forest on occasion and even back toward the village as she was a very vocal lover, crying out with each expulsion of air and, of course, talking at him in words he didn't recognize.

Hafdan had always been a virile sex machine, and he was still yet to reach his point of no return when the Christian's body showed all the physical and verbal signs of having reached orgasm. He continued ramming his cock into her, though, wanting both to see just how long he could keep her in a state of euphoria and -- of course -- reach his own peak.

And he did finally, giving out a loud grunt as his cock began pulsing within her, filling her with his seed. As his own euphoria swept through him, Hafdan leaned forward, dropping one hand to the ground to support himself as the other held the girl's body to him, maintaining his position within her depths.

Eventually, though, he fell atop her, practically smashing her into the grass and dirt of the forest floor. He should have rolled off her, probably, but the village girl reached her hands behind her to grasp his hips in digging fingers to hold him where he was. He could feel that she was struggling for breaths, but she showed no signs of wanting him off her.

 

[TimTimTyner]

The pleasure of Ingrid's pussy was simply overwhelming for Hagan, who hadn't been inside a woman's pussy for the almost two year long period of his wife's worst days of illness. She worked her body atop him for only a minute or so before he grunted out loudly at the feel of his cock emptying his balls inside her. His head swam in the euphoria, and after the most powerful waves of pleasure had made their way through him, he laughed.

Ingrid looked down at Hagan with a surprised look as he grasped her hips and told her, "Stop, please, stop!" He was laughing full on now, finally explaining, "It tickles. Just, just give me a moment, a moment to, oh, Ingrid, Ingrid, you have no idea."

But even as he was getting past the ticklish phase of having had no sex in so long, the shieldmaiden was once again rocking her body to and fro with speed and energy. Hagan knew what she wanted, the same euphoria he'd just enjoyed, so when he had recovered from the joy of orgasm, he again grasped Ingrid's hips and used his great strength to help her reach her goal.

She threw her head back finally as she climaxed, crying into the darkness. Unlike before, when the joy of orgasm had caused Hagan to cease the action, this time he continued to move the lovely lady back and forth over his crotch, even after she herself had lost the ability to help in the effort. Her peak was more of a plateau, and Hagan watched her with awe as her orgasm seemed to go on and on until, finally, she simply collapsed upon him.

But Hagan had realized that he was close to cumming again. He rolled Ingrid to her back, pulling out, then rolled her again to her front side. Grasping her hips and lifting her ass into the air, he found her sopping wet pussy with his still hard cock and quickly returned to ramming deep inside her until again his cock was leaping inside her.

Hagan pulled out and dropped to his back next to Ingrid, his heart pounding and his muscular chest rising and falling with deeply drawn and exhaled breaths. His eyes were closed initially, but then he looked up to the stars visible through a gap in the canopy. He could see most of the stars of a familiar constellation, and he couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that even here in the Isles of England, they saw the same sky at night.

After some time, a mosquito buzzed around his head and he thought it better to get dressed again before one bit his cock or Ingrid's ass. He rolled to kiss her on the cheek, then slapped that shapely ass. "Get dressed. I am going to go jump in the river and clean the smell of you off me."

Hagan kissed her again, then whispered, "Thank you, Ingrid. You are magnificent. You are all I ever dreamed you would be."

He stood and began dressing, watching her as he did. Once he was dressed, Hagan said, "I wish we had had the chance to do this before this day. Before my negotiation with the Christians."

He meant, of course, before he'd negotiated a bride from the population of Christians. He offered Ingrid a hand up, not knowing whether she was ready to take it and leave. Either way, he departed the forest and walked the edge to the river, where he found one of his men on guard. Hagan stripped and jumped into the cold river, washing away the smell of the shieldmaiden's pussy.

Wiping most of the water from his body and dressing in all but his outer later, he returned to the camp and stood at the fire for an hour or so, talking to his people about their future before finally going into his tent to lay down with his wife.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Clara had always been quick to orgasm, which was likely the reason she enjoyed sex so much. Of course, she was a bit crazy and obviously promiscuous, both of which contributed to her very active sex life.

Being fucked by this Northern heathen was something new to her, though. Hafdan was rougher than any man had ever been with her, entering her hard and fast and pounding deep, just as she had expected and hoped. The orgasm that exploded through her was intense and longer than typical, even for the men who fucked her often and thought they knew how to please her better than anyone else.

He didn't stop just because Clara had cum, not that she would have expected that, of course. Men always told her they wanted to please her, but in the end it was always about emptying their balls not causing an eruption within her petite frame. The Viking did finally grunt out his satisfaction, falling atop Clara and smashing her into the ground.

He wasn't the biggest of the Viking visitors -- he was tiny compared to their leader, Hagan -- and yet he still outweighed Clara by at least 40 pounds. She struggled to breath under his weight. And yet he was still inside her, and something about the pressure of his cock against her clit and his body upon her own was causing her to feel a heightening of the post-coitus glow within her.

"Stay there, stay on me you fucking heathen," she demanded, grasping his sides to encourage him to stay in place. She began raising and lowering her ass against him, causing his cock to saw back and forth against her pleasure nub, and suddenly she realized that she was going to explode in ecstasy again. As she sped her movements, she begged, "Stay in me, stay in me, heathen. Don't you dare pull out of me."

She continued to talk to him, knowing he didn't understand her, and after a long minute, Clara cried out to yet another explosion, and only seconds later, the pleasure exploded within her a third time. She cried out loudly, not even considering that someone might her, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck me, heathen, oh dear God!"

Clara didn't know how long she lay there, face down in the grass and dirt and leaves of the forest floor. Her mind was spinning in joyous euphoria, and even after the Viking had slid off of her and begun putting himself back together, she only laid there with her ass still bared to him and the forest.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Ingrid hadn't expected Hagan to roll her off of him to her knees and forearms and continue fucking her, but she certainly wasn't regretful of it. As he slammed his body into hers, he drove her to another orgasm, causing her to bury her face into the fur of his cape to quiet the cries escaping her mouth.

When he finished and dropped to his back next to her, Ingrid rolled to her side and simply stared at him with a joyous expression on her face. She'd wanted this for so long, and she'd imagined what it would be like. She wasn't disappointed.

She heard the same bothersome insect that Hagan did and knew it was time to end this. She laughed when he slapped her ass, saying, "Get dressed."

He kissed her, thanked her, and told her she was magnificent. Ingrid didn't recall a man ever having told her that. He said with a tone of regret, "I wish we had had the chance to do this before this day. Before my negotiation with the Christians."

She knew what he meant: he was getting married. The two of them had been deprived of this interaction because of complications in his current marriage, and now -- after finally having him in the most intimate of ways -- he was getting married once again.

Ingrid so badly wanted to tell Hagan that she would open her thighs to him again in the future, as often as he wanted. She didn't care if he had one or two or ten wives, she had wanted and still wanted to be his lover above all other things. But she kept her mouth shut, instead dressing in silence and making her way back to the tent she was sharing with some of the shieldmaidens and non-combatant types.

She would keep what had happened here to herself. There was nothing to be gained by letting anyone -- in particular Torild -- know that Hagan and she had fucked.

 

[TimTimTyner]

Hafdan and Clara, with Eirik as well

Hafdan might have tried to cum again with Clara as she continued to work her body against him for her own second orgasm. But he was already satisfied with his one ecstatic explosion. He waited until she was finished, laying beneath him almost whimpering in her euphoric state, before rolling off of her, standing, and dressing again.

"You are not like any woman I have ever known," he told Clara, knowing -- like she did about him -- that she wouldn't understand his words. When he was ready to depart, he looked down to find the Christian woman simply laying there still with the lower half of her body exposed to the night. He worried that maybe he'd hurt her, but then -- as she had so often before -- she murmured those words fuck and heathen in a soft, almost appreciative voice, and Hafdan only shrugged and turned away, telling her, "I hope we meet again."

He returned to the forest's edge and found the gathering breaking up. Rather than rejoin it directly, he wrapped his path around the village to join the departing Vikings. To his right, he found a figure in the dark and realized almost immediately that it was Ingrid. As he and others continued to the river, Hafdan stopped just beyond the ridge and watched.

After a bit, with the others continuing away from the village to their encampment, another lone figure stood in the pasture of native, naturally growing grasses, then pivoted to meet with and then disappear into the forest with Ingrid. It was, of course, Hagan. Hafdan gently nodded his head approvingly. Hafdan was one of Hagan's oldest friends and most trusted confidants, and he knew it had been a long time since Hagan had enjoyed the pleasures of a woman. It was about time. There was no other way to view this.

He turned for the camp, and upon reaching it took charge of sending warriors and shieldmaidens back out into the forest to watch for their new friends to sneak off in the night to seek military help against the heathen invaders. He looked to the sky and found the moon hovering above, unobstructed by clouds. "Listen for the horn, halfway to dawn. Replacements will be coming through the forest. Don't kill them."

There was laughter, of course, because Hafdan himself had very nearly been killed by his own men during the last visit to the Isles of England while he'd been creeping through the darkness to join a surveillance position. The place where the arrow entered his shoulder but luckily missed everything important inside still hurt on cold nights, and there were a lot of cold nights in Norway.

Hafdan had intentionally deployed Eirik to the portion of the forest nearest to where Hagan and Ingrid were having their encounter. As the men began deploying, Hafdan caught the other man by the arm and told him, "You will likely hear fucking going on in the woods near you. Do not investigate it."

Eirik's face filled with a combination of confusion and curiosity, which led him to looking around the camp for their leader. With other thoughts occupying him, Hagan had been out of sight, out of mind to Eirik. Now that he understood that the big Viking was in the woods getting his cock wet -- with his future bride, Eirik mistakenly presumed. He reassured Hafdan, "I will let the lovers have their fun without an audience."

The men went their separate ways, Eirik along the bank to the east and Hafdan to his tent and bed to get in a few hours of sleep before having to replace others on watch. He would already be sound asleep before Hagan would return to the camp.

 

[TimTimTyner]

Henry

Henry had left the feast hoping to reach his home and, ultimately, his bed without being set up by his fellow Englishmen. He was feeling light headed and unsteady from over drinking with the heathens, and all he wanted to do way lay down and get some sleep.

But -- as he feared -- that wasn't to happen. He was nearly to his home when a half dozen men, mostly Elders, gathered around him and began a heated conversation that included virtually nothing new from the conversations they'd had earlier in the day after the first gathering in the Square.

Henry tried to deal with the questions and complaints as best he could but ultimately bellowed out, "Stop!" When silence returned, he told them, "In the morning. We will discuss this in the morning. Until then, return to your homes, get some sleep. There is nothing we need to discuss that can't be discussed tomorrow when my head is clear and you've had time to realize that without this negotiation, without this marriage, our village would be destroyed and all you family members killed or raped or enslaved. Do you understand that? Do you?"

The arguing had begun again as Henry was speaking, but with that last exclamation, silence returned again. As he pushed through the others, he again told them, "Go home!" Arriving at his own hut, he found his wife waiting for him but his daughter already in her bed beyond a curtain, asleep or pretending to be so. He took a moment to look in on her, but then did as he wanted and needed: he kicked off his boots, shed his outer layer of clothes, and dropped hard into his bed. He was out within seconds, or at least in his inebriated state, he imagined he was.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Kirstin, Ingrid, Mingsu, and Hagan

The next morning:

Kirstin awoke to the immediate feeling of pain in her head. It wasn't a headache, she realized, but was more external; it was the bruising and swelling from the punch to the face the Northman Eirik had given her the previous afternoon.

Looking down into a bowl of water while holding a candle near her face, she grimaced at the black and blue flesh to the outside of her eye and cheek. Touching it only made her chastise, Don't touch it, idiot! She blew the candle out, slipped back into her working dress, and did her best to brush off the dirt and debris that had mussed it during the chase and subsequent fall to the ground.

Kirstin found her mother weaving and greeted her, attempting but failing to hide the damage to her face. Bethany expressed her sorrow for what had happened to her in the forest and for what was about to happen to her in the days to come. But Kirstin countered, "I believe that this will be good for us, mother. Good for the community and people of Riverwalk, and good for you and father and me as a family. I do not believe Hagan to be the heathen we have been led to believe all Northmen are."

She suddenly remembered that her last exchange of conversation with Hagan had been of him propositioning her for a little premarital sex, and she had to turn away from her mother as she smiled and blushed. She then reminded Bethany, "You are the one, if you recall, mother, who said that I would marry the Pagan and raise the first male child I birth with him as a Pagan."

Kirstin didn't say it with an accusatory tone; there was actually a touch of humor in her voice. Bethany tried to act chastised, but then she smiled and chuckled. "I don't know what got into me, daughter. This whole affair has been..."

"Bizarre?" Kirstin asked.

"Bizarre, yes, that is a good word," her mother agreed. They spent more than an hour talking about the previous day, about the Northmen, about Hagan, and about his wife. Bethany ordered, "I want you to go to the Northman camp and invite Torild to our home. I want to discover what is wrong with her and seek treatment, maybe even a cure, if it is something I recognize."

Kirstin acknowledged the request, finished dressing with a wrap, and headed north toward the river. She found many of her fellow English going about their day's work as expected, but at the same time found two different handfuls of them standing near the ridge, chatting amongst themselves as they looked down upon the distant camp.

"Don't you have work to do?" she asked one of the younger males after he gave her a dirty, up and down ogle and licked his lips lewdly. Was he thinking about being with Kirstin himself or implying that someone else -- Hagan -- would be with her soon enough? He said something crude that Kirstin didn't care to consider or remember, and as she continued onward, she shot back, "I think your girl friend is waiting for you. You know which ewe I'm speaking of."

The men with the target of her crudeness laughed at their buddy, and Kirstin laughed at her little victory. She continued down the slope, studying the scene. The Northmen had accomplished a lot in a very short amount of time. They had constructed a small pen in which they had locked up three ewes, one of which Kirstin could see was about to give birth, possibly to twins or triplets by the size of her. They'd constructed a table on which were assembled several cages filled with fowl: chickens, ducks, and even geese, the latter of which were making a horrific racket.

A number of tents were organized around a large fire pit that was was built long, not round, to service not only a number of iron pots and skillets but also the carcass of a deer that was turning black over the hot coals. Even before she had reached the camp's perimeter, Kirstin could smell the meal being cooked.

One by one, the Northmen caught sight of her nearing and then entering the camp, and while some of them only stared at her with blank or sometimes scrutinizing expressions, others showed her kindness or even respect with smiles or even nods of their heads.

Two small girls who were hand in hand -- one perhaps 5, another barely a toddler -- rushed toward her, stopping just short of running into her. The elder of the two began ranting on in words Kirstin obviously did not understand, while the younger one pointed about and mumbled as if she was trying to explain the world around herself to the stranger. Kirstin listened as if understanding every word, smiling to the pair with a joy she had not expected to find coming into a heathen camp.

"She tells she is happy you are become part of her family," a female voice said in broken English. Kirstin turned to find the female warrior from the forest the day before approaching. Ingrid pointed to the elder, then to the younger as she explained, "This is Norah. This is Anrid. They are daughters of Brynhilde, Hagan's sister. She died in childbirth last year. Her son died with her. Torild has raised these girls. But now..."

Ingrid didn't finish reminding the Christian that the two girls' foster mother would soon be dead as was their birth mother.

"Then I will raise them," Kirstin said without hesitation. She saw the reaction in Ingrid's face and added, "If Torild and Hagan will permit me."

She looked about the camp, then asked, "May I see Torild? My mother wishes to visit with her and see to her health."

Ingrid didn't immediately react to the request; she wasn't entirely certain she should be visiting the tent of the married man she'd had sex with on the forest floor the previous evening, particularly if she was escorting that man's future wife at the time. Instead, she only pointed to the Viking Chief's tent and said before turning and leaving, "You will find Torild there."

Kirstin watched the woman depart, looking her over with awe. Ingrid was an amazing woman and a warrior to boot. Kirstin had, of course, heard that the women of the north fought side by side with their men; Shieldmaidens, they were called. But just as she had never seen a male Viking warrior before yesterday, Kirstin had obviously never seen a female one either. She was eager to watch Ingrid or any of the other female warriors demonstrate their abilities with their swords or bows.

Would she have felt different about Ingrid if she'd known what the shieldmaiden and her betrothed had been doing in the forest?

As she approached the tent, the Chinese girl -- now a free woman because of Kirstin's demand -- caught sight of her from the river's edge where she was up to her knees in the water, dunking cloth in and out. She called to Kirstin, smiled broadly, and waved her to come to her. She was back on the bank, dropping the water-heavy cloths into a woven basket when the Christian woman arrived.

"I wish to thank you," Mingsu said, bowing respectfully several times as she explained, "I am free, a free woman. Thank you, Lady. Thank you."

Kirstin urged the slightly younger woman to stand tall, telling her, "Don't do that. You are not a slave anymore. You don't need to bow to me or to any one ever again."

Mingsu's expression showed that that concept was still foreign to her. The two talked about some of the ways her life would change now with her no longer being a slave. The girl's lack of understanding or, in some cases, simply lack of acceptance that she could be such things or do such things or live such ways intrigued Kirstin, who -- other than being subordinate to most of the men in her life -- had been free to do or say anything she'd wanted her entire life.

"What will I do?" Mingsu asked with a timid voice. She got even quieter as she spoke of Torild, asking, "What will I do when I am free and I no longer have my mistress to serve? What will become of me?"

Kirstin took the girl's hands in her own, smiled to her, and said, "If you wish, you may come live in Riverwalk with me. We will find you a place to live. Work, good work, work of your choosing, not work that is being forced upon you. And, when you are ready, we will find you a good man, a kind man with whom you can have many strong boys and beautiful girls. Hagan likes to say that, doesn't he?"

Mingsu giggled, saying, "Yes. But..."

"But what?" Kirstin asked.

Mingsu looked up the bank at the camp and found Hagan standing there, watching the two of them with a curious expression on his face. Kirstin noted the Chinese girl's change in expression and looked over her shoulder to find her betrothed. She looked back to Mingsu again and asked, "But what?"

The younger woman leaned in close and asked, "But if you are Chief Hagan's wife, won't you live here by the river?"

This was a question Kirstin had already contemplated. She looked back to Hagan, then to the assortment of tents gathered along the riverbank. The Northmen lived a rough life while traveling to distant lands she could see, and having only been in the camp for minutes, Kirstin couldn't even begin to imagine the aspects of their lives that she was yet to notice or even consider.

But honestly was it really that much worse than the peasant life she and the English residents of Riverwalk lived? Their community was most definitely a poor one, with even the mildest of winters sometimes seeing at least a death or two that could have been prevented if they had had more food or more coin to spend on building supplies for better homes.

In a way, as she looked about the very well organized camp, Kirstin thought that perhaps the Northmen actually lived better in some ways while traveling than her fellow villagers did while going no where at all. She looked back to Mingsu, telling her, "Finish your work, and we will speak later."

She left Mingsu to complete the laundry and climbed the bank to join her future husband. "I would like to see your wife, please."

Then, as a devilish smirk spread her lips, Kirstin clarified, "Your current wife."

 

[TimTimTyner]

Hagan, Kirstin, and Henry: wedding plans

Hagan had emerged from the tent, hearing Mingsu's call of Kirstin's name. He found them at the river's edge talking and simply watched them in silence. He smiled to the English woman when she looked to him, and when she climbed the bank he leaned his head to look at her face.

"Would you like to hit Eirik in the face?" he asked with a playful smirk.

She ignored his offer of revenge, demanding, "I would like to see your wife, please." He laughed when she added, "Your current wife."

"She has been expecting you," Hagan said before leading her to the tent. Inside, he went to the bed and whispered to Torild, "Kirstin is here, my love."

The woman had been resting her eyes but not sleeping. She opened her eyes, found the younger future wife of her husband, and gestured her closer with a smile. "Please, please, my Lady. Come."

"I will leave the two of you," Hagan said, adding as he looked to Kirstin, "I should speak with your father about the wedding." He looked to Torild and blew her a kiss. "I will return later."

Hagan climbed the hill to the village, taking Hafdan with him but no others. Before he'd left, he'd told Eirik to relieve the forest watches again. Hagan planned on maintaining the security around the village until at least the consummation of his marriage to Kirstin.

Henry invited Hagan to sit with him in the Square again, and some of the village's unofficial Elders joined them. They chatted idly about the camp and any needs it might have, which Henry offered to fulfill if he could; they also spoke about hunting and foraging, which at the moment the villagers were prohibited from doing but which Hagan said would be allowed if Henry's people would accept doing so alongside his own foragers and hunters, with armed Northmen in attendance.

"It is common for marriages to occur on the night of the full moon," Henry began when it was time to speak about the wedding. "This is 20 days from today, I believe."

It was a lie. The time of joining husbands and wives had absolutely nothing to do with the phase of the moon, but Henry had hoped to delay the wedding until he got a better feel for the Pagans and how they would interact with the Christians. Even though he'd told his fellow villagers that resisting the Northmen would be a mistake, Henry hadn't entirely decided whether or not to covertly send a messenger to the nearby town to seek military assistance.

But Hagan wasn't having any of that and said, "My wife wishes to attend my marriage to your daughter. She grows weaker every day and may not have long. I will marry your daughter tonight."

Henry laughed without thinking about it. "Tonight? No. No, that can't--"

"It will be tonight," Hagan repeated. "My people are already preparing for the wedding and the celebration after--"

"Where?" Henry interrupted. He looked off toward the river and asked, "Down there? No. No, the wedding will be here in the village, in the church. A Christian ceremony performed by a Christian Priest. That is why it cannot be tonight. Brother Josiah must perform the ceremony, and he is not due to come around to Riverwalk until Sunday after next, which is 10 days from now."

"I will marry your daughter tonight, at the river's edge, in a Norse ceremony that celebrates our Gods," Hagan said with an increasingly firm tone. "If you wish, when your priest arrives, you can perform your Christian ceremony. But for now, this is the way it will be."

The villagers standing or sitting on Henry's side of the Square were now actively murmuring and expressing their discomfort with Hagan's demands. The Viking stood and, looking down at the Englishman, said firmly, "You will prepare your daughter and deliver her to my camp at sundown."

 

[AmyRoberts]

Ingrid, Bethany, Kirstin, Torild, and Mingsu

(OOC: See the bottom of this post regarding Carmen and Mingsu.)

While Hagan and Henry were discussing the wedding plans, Ingrid and one of the more intimidating Viking warriors -- providing her security, which turned out to be unnecessary -- ascended the hill to to retrieve Kirstin's mother and her teenage Healing Apprentice, Carmen, who like Mingsu was quickly nearing her coming-of-age. The pair followed the two Northwomen back to tent at the river's edge, where -- through Mingsu's translating -- Kirstin and Ingrid were asked to remain outside.

"We call it a tumor," Bethany said to Mingsu, who immediately translated to Torild. She continued her examination of the woman's left breast, then gently manipulated her fingertips upon the right breast, finding what might have been the beginnings of a second growth. Bethany continued, pausing between sentences for Mingsu to do her part, "We don't know what causes them, though, the Church has its theories. I don't prescribe to their teachings, as I have known them to occur in the most physically and spiritually pure of women. Sometimes, I believe, God -- or the Gods -- are not the cause of all trials and tribulations we must face as women."

Bethany indicated to her patient that she could again cover herself. Then, with great sorrow, admitted, "There is no treatment, Torild. I am very sorry. I can only treat the pain with herbal remedies, to a degree, to make you more comfortable."

Once she was redressed, Torild spoke to Mingsu, who responded with a shocked tone in her voice. Hagan's wife was firm with the girl, though, and after a moment to consider the words, Mingsu told Bethany, "My mistress does not wish to have her pain treated."

The Chinese woman spoke again to Torild, which caused the ill woman to stress again what she'd already told her former slave. Mingsu looked to the healer again, saying, "My mistress wishes to have her pain end."

The girl paused, looking down to her fumbling fingers with nervousness before looking up and asking, "Can you do this? Can you make her pain end?"

"There is no treatment, so, no, I can't," Bethany said. Then, seeing the expressions and body language of both women, she suddenly understood that for which Torild was asking via her translator. "Oh. You mean--"

"Yes," Mingsu cut her off with a meek voice. "My mistress wishes her pain to end. She wishes to watch her husband take his new wife, your daughter. Then, she wishes her pain to end. Can you do this, without suffering?"

Bethany realized suddenly that her hands were trembling. No one had ever asked her to end their life for them. She could do it, of course, and without suffering. But could as in able and could as in willing were two totally different things. But Bethany could see the desperation in Torild's eyes. She reached out and took the woman's hands into her own and said, "Yes, I can help you end your pain."

She looked to Mingsu and waited for her to translate, then said, "But it will be some time before the wedding occurs. My husband is negotiating a ceremony for the night of the full moon, which is--"

But Bethany burst into the tent at that moment, correcting her mother, "The wedding is tonight!"

All three of the women already inside the tent looked to Kirstin with surprise as she explained, "Hagan is outside. He spoke to my father, and the wedding is to be held tonight, after sundown, here, in the pagan-- the Northman campsite."

She pulled her mother away from the others and engaged her in a desperate argument about preventing the rushed and pagan marriage ceremony, but after a minute or less of back and forth, Bethany finally demanded, "Stop!"

Kirstin was surprised yet again by her mother. Bethany said firmly but in a quieter voice, "You will marry Hagan in the way of his people. Then, when the Brother Priest has arrived, we will perform a proper wedding, up in the town, in the church."


(OOC: I include characters who are <18 because this is a long term, multi-year story that will include teens coming of age, which -- of course -- is always 18. There will NEVER be ANY mention of intimacy, let alone sex, involving characters <18. There won't even be mention of how they are approaching the age at which they will one day be able to engage in sex. Ever!)

 

[TimTimTyner]

Later that night:

The preparations for his wedding had required the attention of all 21 of Hagan's Clan members, right down to the toddlers, who went to the forest with an adult and picked flowers to decorate the site.

Hagan even pulled the scouts in from the woods, not because he thought the English wouldn't try to send for help but because he knew they had or would. It was a waste of time to try to prevent it, and it only served to make the Christians believe that the Pagans didn't trust them.

By the time the sun began touching the forested mountains to the west, the encampment was decorated and in full celebratory mode. There was music from a quartet of stringed and wind instruments. Evergreen bows dangled from ropes tied high to poles encircling the camp, flooding the area with the delicious smells of the forest. Mats of weaved rushes on foundations of cut saplings and limbs made for walkways and what the Christians would have called an altar that kept the wedding's attendees out of the dirt and mud.

The Norwegian ale and honey wine had run out just last night, but Henry had sent a keg of English drink down for the celebration. And over a long fire pit were roasting enough deer, rabbits, ducks, fish, and a goat to feed all of the English and Northmen in Riverwalk.

Henry doubted that that much food would be necessary, of course. He had resisted asking Henry whether or not he believed that most of his countrymen would attend the wedding. He didn't see that having that knowledge beforehand would be anymore beneficial than not having it.

But as the sun finally dropped fully behind the mountains and the sky went dark and he looked up to the ridge and saw the wedding party coming this way, it was obvious to Hagan that the bride's guests were going to be easily counted.

 

[AmyRoberts]

There was no time to make a wedding dress for Kirstin, so her mother hurried around to some of the weavers and seamstresses, looking for ideas on how to alter and accessorize her daughter's Church dress. She wasn't entirely happy with her options, but had visited every woman she thought would help.

Then, as she turned back home with her basket of possibilities, Bethany suddenly stopped short when a woman she had not visited was right before her. Surprised, she only said, "Marian."

The woman who had been Henry's first love and lover and had thought she would also be his wife had never liked Bethany, and the two of them hadn't spoken more than ten words to each other in twice as many decades. And yet, as Bethany stared at her, dumbfounded as to why she would be right here, right now, Marian lifted her arms before her, and laying neatly across them was more than Bethany could have dreamed of having for such an event.

"I couldn't," Kirstin's mother said, knowing what she was being offered. "I just couldn't."

Marian only reached her arms out farther, then said something Bethany thought she would never hear from the woman. "Please."

Bethany hesitated, then -- as her eyes glazed over and a tear ran down her cheek -- the reached out and took the wedding dress that Marian's daughter had worn for her own wedding, three years earlier. That beautiful event had been followed by tragedy just four months later, though, when the by-then-pregnant young wife disappeared in the woods on the same day unknown mounted men had been seen by boys hunting.

"Thank you, my friend," Bethany said, speaking words that she had never said to Marian anymore than Marian had said please to her. Another tear ran down her cheek, and stepping closer to the other woman, Bethany pleaded, "Come, Marian. Come to my daughter's wedding. See her be married in your daughter's beautiful gown. Please."

"I cannot," Marian said softly. "Be not offended, my friend. I simply cannot."

Marian stepped close to Bethany, took and squeezed her hands, then before turning and leaving said, "I wish you and your daughter all the happiness in the world, and may God bless you."

////////////////////////
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"You are the most beautiful bride who has ever been," Henry said when he entered the hut upon his wife's call. He gestured Kirstin to turn around, which she did. He repeated with joy, "The most beautiful."

Bethany finished dressing and decorating her daughter. The three of them headed out of the hut, and all around them, the people of Riverwalk stopped what they were doing to take in the wonder of a woman about to be married. Henry led the way past a number of torches that lit up the white gown his daughter wore; he was followed by his daughter and his wife, and as they continued, more of their fellow villagers stepped into view or exited their own huts to take in the sight.

As Henry took up a torch from a holder at the village's edge, the three of them left, following the beaten path from the village to the river. And it was only Henry, Kirstin, and Bethany making the journey. None of the other Christians would partake of the Pagan ceremony. Kirstin wanted to look back over her shoulder, to see if what she thought was true actually was. But the one time that she began to slowly turn her head, Bethany snapped at her, "Eyes forward, daughter. Your future is in front of you, your past is behind you."

They continued onward through the darkness, and when they reached the ridge and could see down the slope, Kirstin's eyes opened in shock. The path was lined on one side with torches spaced every twenty feet or so, and at the end of the trail, at the edge of the encampment, a line of Northmen were awaiting their Chief's future wife.

 

[TimTimTyner]

The wedding of Hagan and Kirstin

The single torch descending the slope from Riverwalk was a disappointment to Hagan. He had hoped that Kirstin's Christian friends and neighbors would have accepted what was happening tonight and joined in celebrating the joining of the two peoples through this marriage. And yet, the light of the torch carried by Henry and of the torches that lit the path between the ridge and the river only fell upon three individuals.

"So be it," Hagan said to himself as he watched from the platform that had been constructed to serve as the altar for the ceremony. As his bride and her parents neared, Hagan looked to those who'd been anxiously awaiting the appearance of Kirstin -- some had feared she might not come at all -- and called out, "It is time!"

The musicians changed from playing a celebratory sort of tune to a more solemn, even ominous sound as Kirstin herself might have called it after her walk through the lonely dark of the fields. The Northmen -- men, women, and children -- moved to line the path from the southern edge of the encampment to where their Chief stood; Hagan wore his usual wardrobe -- cleaned and polished for the occasion -- and he'd had his beard and hair trimmed for what he hoped was a less heathen appearance. His ax gleamed in the torchlight, as did the dagger and sword which he only carried in times of battle or -- like this -- celebration.

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As Henry reached the edge of the camp, he began to see lit by the multitude of torches sights he's expected -- and dreaded -- to see due to this being a pagan ceremony. Immediately, after a Viking stepped out to relief him of the burden of carrying the torch, two more Vikings stepped out to led the bridal procession further; their faces were painted a stark white and were decorated with runes of red, which Henry presumed correctly was animal blood.

Two more Vikings, these female, stepped between him and his daughter to lead her, and yet another pair cut in between Kirstin and his wife; these four also had their faces painted and decorated. The procession continued forward, with the pair leading Henry and Bethany ultimately moving off to the right and left of where Hagan stood and the pair leading Kirstin directing her up to the Viking Chief himself.

As the three English had been entering the camp deeper, the musical instruments had been joined by low, melodic singing -- almost a chant, almost a hum, but really neither -- that only continued as Hagan stepped before Kirstin and looked her up and down with a wide smile. He spoke in his own language to her, then looked about and called out the words again, something that caused the remaining Northmen to cheer.

"You are a beautiful girl," Henry heard Hagan say in English, "and we will have many strong boys and beautiful girls to make our village great."

Another Viking male with a painted face and with long robes appeared, relative to Hagan and Kirstin's position, and Henry understood him to be a Pagan Priest. He began talking loudly for the assemblage -- in Norse, of course -- and making hand gestures this way and that, toward the sky and the land and toward the bride and the groom as well. Occasionally, the Viking Clan called out, repeating the priest's words or adding words expected for those parts of the marriage ceremony.

As Henry watched in silence, Hagan gestured Kirstin to turn, and when Henry diverted his own attention to where his future son-in-law was indicating, he realized that the other two men with white face had brought a goat up behind the betrothed couple. Henry immediately knew what was happening and his stomach turned over anxiously; he'd heard of Pagan sacrifice, of course, but he hadn't expected to see it here tonight.

The priest continued talking and chanting, sometimes with rhythm, and the crowd continued responding. Meanwhile, the four painted women were assembling on either side of the goat, one of them holding a large wooden bowl and the other three securing the goat's body in their grips.

Another figure appeared in the flickering light of the multitude of torches and approached the goat. Henry hadn't yet been introduced to this man; it was Eirik, the Viking responsible for the swelling and bruising still evident on his otherwise picture perfect daughter's face. Eirik was painted and decorated in a far different color scheme, with bright blue and deep black paints on his face and a head dress that literally frightened Henry, making him think of the devil and the spirits of the underworld.

Eirik carried a large ax, and without any warning -- in English, anyway -- of what was about to happen, he was called upon by the Priest to perform his duty. Eirik raised the weapon high above him and brought down swift and hard, cleanly severe the goat's head and neck off just beyond its shoulders. As Henry watched in horror, blood sprayed upon the white faced men and women near the goat, then began flowing out to fill the bowl held beneath his dead but still standing body.

Henry looked to Hagan and found the man smiling as he watched the sacrificial act. He looked to Bethany and then to Kirstin, expecting one or both of them to be horrified or even retching their guts all over the wooden walkways created for the ceremony. But while each of them showed their emotions in their faces, neither of them seemed as revolted by the event as Henry himself was.

And the ceremony went on, with the musicians still playing and the melodic sound coming from Vikings all around them and the Priest still speaking out his Norse words. The bowl of blood was collected by one of the female Viking, and she was joined by the Priest. They moved about the other Northmen with the Priest dipping a brush made of animal hair into the blood and splattered it onto the faces and torso's of each and every man, woman, and child forming a somewhat poorly shaped circle around the bride and groom's position.

When the Priest finished with the last Northman standing near Henry, Hagan called out to the officiate in Norse. The Priest hesitated, then moved past Henry without repeating the ceremonial blood gesture. Henry called to his bride's father, "I would not make you do this. I will not offend your beliefs, Henry."

But Henry surprised himself by suddenly responding, "No! Do it. I will partake."

The Priest stopped, looked to Henry, then to Hagan. After a moment, Hagan shrugged and spoke to the Priest in Norse. Henry repeated, "It is part of my daughter's wedding ceremony. I will partake. Please."

The Priest moved back to Henry, spoke several words as he gestured the brush this way and that way; it had a similarity to the signs the Christian Priest made during the Sunday service, Henry realized. All except for the blood, of course. He flinched in a bit of mixed shock and revulsion when the brush was flicked his way and blood splattered him from his forehead to his neck. He wanted to rub it away immediately, but he resisted.

The Priest moved on, toward his wife who was standing opposite Kirstin and Hagan. Henry couldn't help but smile a bit, wondering just how Bethany was going to react as the Priest neared her with his bowl full of goat blood.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Even from still fifteen or twenty paces still up the trail, Kirstin noticed the sudden shift in the music from having been rather joyous in nature to solemn and eerie. She'd heard similar sounds the one and only time she and her parents had attended Sunday services in the cathedral in their Lord's distant town. It wasn't so much the actual sounds coming from the instruments and mouths that was similar, though. It was more of a mood, one of seriousness, as a marriage obviously was.

When she finally caught sight of Hagan, Kirstin couldn't restrain her smile. He was a pagan and a heathen and he had forced himself upon her as her husband after less than half a day of having known her. And yet, he was such an amazing figure, a magnificent man who -- despite his Northern origins and pagan ways -- was more of a man to whom Kirstin had ever imagined herself being wed.

As she and her parents reached the village, the strangeness of their ceremony began: the gowns, the face paint, the blood, and the simple intense attention being placed upon her from Hagan and his 21 followers was almost overwhelming. When he stood next to her, then turned her to see Eirik chop the head from a goat, Kirstin's belly churned in horror and she very nearly emptied it as her father expected.

But Kirstin fought through the feelings, and after she saw both her father and her mother accept the splattering of blood upon their faces, she steeled herself even as her chest was rising and falling anxiously. The priest stepped before her, spoke his Norse words, and flicked the blood covered brush at her. She closed her eyes just in time and flinched as she felt the warm droplets splash upon her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. One small droplet his her her left eyelid while another struck her lips.

As the priest moved on to Hagan, Kirstin carefully blinked her eyes in stages, trying -- and succeeding -- to keep the drop out of her eye. She could feel the drop on her top lip moving to the bottom one, and she wanted to reach up and wipe it away. But peeking out of her eye to the right, she found her mother staring at her with a familiar expression, the one she donned when her daughter was about to do or just had done something she shouldn't have.

As she stared at Bethany, Kirstin slipped the tip of her tongue out and licked the wayward drop of blood from her lips. She grimaced at the strong, iron and salt flavor but otherwise suffered through it. Shifting her gaze from her mother back to the priest, she watched as the chanting man dipped a finger into the bowl of blood, made a gesture that made her think as her father had of the Christian gestures on Church day, and then reached out to begin painting a red strip on Hagan's forehead.

When he finished, the priest moved back to Kirstin and repeated the act. Again, she felt and even smelled the warm blood as it was drawn upon her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, and outward to one cheek, then back to the bridge and down the other. The scene was simply amazing to Kirstin, with the continuing music and soft, almost melancholy singing and chant, the always shifting light from the torches, the blood, the dead goat still laying behind her, and -- of course -- the fact that this was all part of her being married to a pagan Northman.

The priest then stepped back, held his hands out wide, and called out to the congregation. As the Vikings cheered loudly, Kirstin caught movement to her right and looked to find Hagan's first wife stepping up closely, assisted by the former slave girl. Torild spoke to Kirstin with a smile of delight, and Mingsu translated, "It is done, my Lady. You are married. Hagan is your husband. You may kiss him."

Kirstin's smile at seeing Torild faded suddenly as she realized that she hadn't really thought about the marriage kiss. She turned to find Hagan staring at her with a smile, and Kirstin smiled in return. Then, realizing that despite the strangeness of all that had happened and the fact that the community up on the rise thought this was all sacrilege and would result in the three Christians present going straight to hell, Kirstin moved up close to Hagan, put her hands on his hips, and lifted her head toward his.

He met her mouth with his own, and not having any idea how to kiss a man, Kirstin simply followed his lead. It became passionate quickly, and she felt an almost painful chill race up her spine, flooding the skin of her upper body, arms, and even her legs with gooseflesh. Surprisingly, Kirstin enjoyed the kiss and was sorry when it ended.

The Vikings were still in an uproar, and they surged forward to congratulate the married couple. The men shook hands with or hugged Hagan, while the women kissed him on the cheek or even on the mouth. Kirstin's eyes bulged when suddenly a male Viking kissed her on the mouth, too, followed by a pair of women hugging her and kissing her on the cheek, only to again be kissed on the mouth by one, then a second, then a third male. Kirstin simply let it happen, thinking This is what Northmen do. It seemed as if every adult either hugged or kissed her before it was over, and the children who could walk, from their early teens to toddler age came up to hug her as well.

"I must retire," Mingsu translated Torild's words after the former had pulled Kirstin through the crowd to where the latter was sitting. "I am tired, and I must go to my bed. Feast, my Lady. Feast and enjoy the night. You are now Chief Hagan's wife. This is your night to celebrate."

"Thank you, Torild," Kirstin said, bowing her head. "Rest. May I come see you tomorrow?"

Mingsu passed on the question, then nodded affirmatively to Kirstin. There were some words shared between Torild and Mingsu, after which Mingsu translated again. Then, the former slave helped Hagan's first wife to her feet and away down the wooden path. Kirstin watched her go, was embraced by more women and children, and finally turned to find her parents standing before her. Bethany told her daughter that they would stay until Kirstin was ready to walk back to Riverwalk.

"Thank you for this, father," Kirstin said to Henry before looking to her mother and saying the same. "I will spend some time with my husband, and then we will return home."

 

[TimTimTyner]

Hagan had seriously been doubtful that Henry and his family -- including Hagan's bride to be, obviously -- would even come down the slope this night, so when Henry asked to partake of the pagan blood ritual, he was very pleased. That pleasure became pure delight when Bethany barely flinched at the splattering of blood on her face, and Hagan felt like he'd already arrived at the gates of Valhalla when Kirstin did the same.

After the priest had moved to him and repeated the flicking of the brush, Hagan looked to his very-soon-to-be-wife and smiled as she attempted to be inconspicuous at licking the blood from her mouth. He turned a bit toward her and ran a finger tip over her eye lid, removing the drop that threatened to temporarily blind her. He licked the red fluid from his finger and turned back to the priest as the man announced in Norse, "May the Gods show favor upon this union of our Chief and Protector, Hagan the Tall, and his bride, Kirstin of Riverwalk."

The crowd roared, and during the mayhem the ominous music that had piqued his new wife's interest earlier reverted back to the celebratory sounds she'd heard as she and her parents had only just begun down the slope. Hagan heard Mingsu explaining to Kirstin that she was now his bride. The young woman turned, moved up to him, and engaged him in a kiss with much more comfort than he had expected.

Hagan could feel in her lips that she'd never kissed a man before; she was tentative and seemed to mimic the way he used his lips and tongue. But Kirstin took to the embrace without fear or hesitation, and Hagan wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her hard into him as all about the pair the Northmen cheered and cried out traditional congratulations in Norse.

The entirety of the Clan's members -- male and female, young and old -- moved about like vegetables being stirred around in a pot, until nearly every Viking had shown their joy to Hagan and Kirstin and even to Henry and Bethany. Torild had made her way to her husband, too, and he took her into his arms to kiss and hold her as he said with a sincere tone, "You will always be my first wife, and you will always be my first love."

"I know this," she said, kissing him again before she said, "I'm tired. I just congratulate your new wife before I retire."

Hagan looked after her as she spoke with Kirstin and then departed to their tent. The celebration got underway, with the English ale coming out in pitchers and a quartet of knife wielding women beginning to hack up and distribute portions of the various animals roasting over the fire.

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As dissatisfied as he felt having had to give away his daughter -- his only child -- to a man he called a heathen the first time they'd met and with now being surrounded by his heathen brethren who were so joyously celebrating and quickly downing vast quantities of ale, Henry was actually beginning to marvel at the Northmen's celebration. They were a joyous people who didn't care that their pagan Chief had just a Christian girl; they only cared that the marriage had happened, that Hagan was happy, and that they themselves had secured a new homeland without having to shed blood, neither the enemy's or their own.

He looked around for Kirstin and found her speaking with Hagan's first wife and the Chinese translator, then looked around for his own wife. He found her surrounded by Viking women who were singing in their native tongue; Bethany, not knowing the words, of course, was instead attempting to hold the tune to which the others were singing, laughing occasionally when her own notes failed to get anywhere close to those of the Northwomen.

"Skål!" a familiar voice said from nearby, causing Henry to spin in place. Hagan offered him a wooden mug filled with ale, explaining, "Skål! It means good health. It is a toast of good fortune."

"Yes, yes, I know what a toast is," Henry responded, quickly regretting the tone he'd used. He raised his stein, saying, "I mean, yes, thank you, Hagan. Skål to you, as well."

Hagan slammed his container to Henry's, then laughed as ale splashed upon the both of them. They were both suddenly surrounded by Northmen coming to once again share their joy with their Chief and his new father-in-law. One of Ingrid's shieldmaidens kissed Hagan full on the lips, laughed with him, and looked at Henry. As she spoke in Norse, she looked him up and down hungrily.

Henry laughed again, then looked around the assemblage of celebrating Northmen for the elder of the two English women. Not seeing Bethany, Hagan told Henry, "This is , Freya. Freya, this is my new wife's father."

"Hei, kjekken," the young beauty said, smiling broadly. She spoke to Hagan, got a response to her question, and did her own translation, "Hallo, handsome."

She continued staring at Henry as she was speaking again to Hagan, and when she finished, the Viking Chief translated this time around. "Freya would like to get naked with you in her tent."

Henry's eyes bulged and he nearly spit out the gulp of ale he'd just spilled into his mouth from the stein. He swallowed, cleared his throat, looked about for his wife, then told Hagan, "I am flattered. I am also married. Please let your friend know -- let Freya know -- that I would be honored, but, I don't think that would be a good idea."

Hagan translated, then laughed at the shieldmaiden's response. Freya moved forward to Henry, took his face in her hands, and pressed a long, wet, passionate kiss on him that he found himself instinctively matching with his own lips and tongue until his good sense caught up with him and he pulled away from her. Freya only laughed, spoke to Hagan again, and disappeared into the writhing crowd of celebrators.

"She wants me to tell you that you are welcome in her bed anytime," he told Henry. He laughed again as he moved forward and threw his arm around his new wife's father's neck, moving him through the crowd toward the keg of ale. He added, "It was a good call, not sleeping with Freya. The last man in her bed, I think, is still there. She rode him so hard, he hasn't yet regained the use of his legs."

He let out a raucous laugh at Henry's shocked expression, and the two of them delved deeper into the celebration.

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Hagan awoke in the middle of the night with a desperate need to piss. He rose from a bed that he quickly realized wasn't his own. His first fear was that he'd taken his new wife to bed on their wedding night and been so drunk he didn't remember it. After a bit of blinking to clear his eyes while his upper body teetered a bit back and forth, he threw back the bedding to find the very beautiful tits of the very beautiful Ingrid staring up at him.

That alone would have been enough to make Hagan smile, but on the other side of the naked, sleeping shieldmaiden was another female body, a second pair of legs from an unknown woman with her head at the wrong end of the bed. Kirstin? No, Hagan realized when he realized that the second female was as unknown as he'd initially believed, as Freya was the only woman in his clan who had dragon tattoos down the backsides of her muscular calves.

Hagan had never seen anymore of Freya's body than her legs and arms, so he playfully threw the bedding even further toward the end of the bed. The action exposed her fit, shapely ass and lower back, as well as the upper half of a fourth naked person: Henry of Riverwalk.

(OOC: Okay, Amy, there's the opening you were waiting for. OMG, this is gonna be good.)

 

[AmyRoberts]

During the celebration:

Freya had made her celebratory rounds to Torild, Kirstin, and Bethany before making her way to Hagan, giving him a big wet kiss on the mouth, and congratulating. "Skål! You have a new young bride, my Chief. Why aren't you already naked with her and putting a son inside her belly?"

Freya knew, of course, about the agreement Kirstin had forced upon him regarding Torild, her imminent death, and consummation of their nuptials, but she -- like most of the Clan -- doubted that that restriction would hold. Kirstin was simply too delicious a meal for a hungry man like Hagan to ignore, whether she be his wife or not.

Freya would have drug Hagan off to a tent just as Ingrid had to the woods the night before if it weren't for the fact that she was his cousin. That hadn't stopped Northmen -- or even Englishmen -- in the past, obviously, but it had Freya and Hagan, who had grown up together as close if not closer than siblings.

She turned her attention to the bride's father, looking him up and down hungrily. She was introduced to Henry, who she called handsome and then asked to get naked with you in her tent. The Englishmen only laughed nervously and expressed his honor at being asked, after he looked around for his wife and daughter.

Being denied didn't prevent her from moving up to and against Henry, taking his head into her hands, and pressing her mouth to his. She expected him to pull away in surprise or even shock, but he didn't; instead, Henry's lips parted with Freya's, and the kiss quickly became passionate -- until, suddenly, it wasn't.

She laughed again as Henry's propriety regarding being a married man forced him to pull away. She again had Hagan tell the man he was welcome in her bed anytime before fading into the crowd, laughing to herself about Henry and with others regarding the joy in the air.

That would have been the end of her flirtation with Kirstin's father if it hadn't been for what was happening with the girl's mother. After Torild had retired to her tent, Kirstin and Bethany found each other, then found and sat with Hagan to feast and listen to him translating tales about himself being told by the others sitting and standing with them.

Bethany had begun to notice that a young, handsome Viking was often looking at her, and each time she returned his gaze, the warrior smiled flirtatiously. At one point, Bethany caught sight of Mingsu and gestured her over, asking in whispers, "Who is that man, and why is he staring at me?"

Mingsu looked reluctant to explain, but when Bethany pressed her on it, the young Chinese girl said, "He is Garth, my mistress's nephew. He is your--"

The girl didn't finish, but Bethany pushed her to go on. Putting her lips up close to Bethany's lips, Mingsu whispered, "My mistress wishes for her nephew to be your ung favør stud."

Bethany pulled her head back to look into Mingsu's eyes; she didn't understand the first two words of that Norse expression but the last one sounded familiar and inappropriate enough to make her think she would have been better not to ask. "Please translate, Mingsu."

Again, the girl was hesitant but continued. "It is hard to translate. For your service to my mistress, she is offering Garth to you this night and any night you wish to partake of his company as, um, as a ung favør stud. A young stud. A lover, my Lady."

Bethany's eyes were huge and her mouth fell open until she forced herself to regain her composure. She looked to Garth again, who must have understood that his service to Bethany had been explained as he gave her a polite and respectful nod of his head and stood from his seat as if expecting them to go off together this very moment.

"You can't be serious," Bethany growled in whisper to Mingsu, who only told her she was. "I'm a married woman. I have a husband. Henry. He's right there!"

"Your husband has been made the same offer, my Lady," Mingsu said, not realizing that in fact no such offer had been made, at least not yet. She went on, "It is tradition amongst our people, my Lady. The Northmen, I mean. Not my people."

Of course, Mingsu didn't know much about her people's traditions, as she had been taken into slavery at just 9 years of age while traveling with her parents on the Silk Road and hadn't even seen another Chinese person since then. Continuing with her explanation, Mingsu warned, "It would be an insult to at least not speak with my Mistress's nephew. You must express your appreciation for the offer of him as ung favør stud. My Mistress needs to know that she chose a worthy man for the task, a man who makes you yearn. Please, my Lady. For my mistress's sake."

Bethany found this all outrageous, of course, but she reluctantly agreed to at least speak with Garth and let him know that -- if it weren't for her being married to Henry -- she would be interested in being intimate with him. But then, after Mingsu had arranged for the both of them to inconspicuously slip away to speak a moment in the small tent in which some of Hagan and Torild's possessions were kept -- including extra bedding, which was all piled in a corner -- something went horribly wrong.

Or, was it horribly right?

Bethany had been expecting Mingsu to remain in the tent with them, to translate. But Garth excused her, then moved closer to Bethany and spoke some of the few English words he knew, mixed with some of his own Norse: "I be Bethany's ung favør stud. Make happy."

She tried to politely explain that this was all a nice gesture and that she appreciated both Torild for making the offer and Garth himself for volunteering, but before she could get all the words out, the young Viking had Bethany in his arms and their mouths were pressed together in a kiss -- then an embrace -- that rapidly became very hot.

Later, when she thought about it more, Bethany would realize that she'd wanted something to happen between the two of them. She'd been fantasizing about him all day; she would think back to how many times she'd found him during the gatherings and two feasts and realize that that number had been large.

The passion exploded between them like a hot water geyser, and before Bethany really understood how fast it was going, she was on her back in a pile of bedding and other items, her dress up to her waist, her knees in the air, and Garth's cock thrusting in and out of her. She clutched the younger man's head in her hands and kissed him deeply and hard, moaning into his mouth as the pleasure grew unbelievably rapidly.

Again, as with how this started, before she knew it Bethany was throwing her head back and crying out to the first orgasm she'd experienced in more than a decade. Oh, it wasn't as if she and Henry didn't fuck; they did. It was only that they didn't do it often, and when they did it was always when she was less likely to conceive -- they couldn't afford more children -- and for some inexplicable reason, Bethany had never been highly susceptible to orgasm unless she was also in heat at the time.

Garth couldn't help but recognize his lover's state of ecstasy, and as Bethany came down from her euphoric peak, he ceased his movements in and out of her, his mission complete. But Bethany was never one to take and not give; in their early years, she had never let her husband end a love making session unless he was spent and fully satisfied with the encounter. She rolled the Viking to his back, grasped and kneaded his cock back to full stiffness, and rode him hard and fast until he, too, had expressed his joy.

Then, because she was so close again anyway, Bethany figured she'd already gone this far in her betrayal of her vows to her husband, so she continued fucking the decade or more younger man until she'd exploded again, then again, before spending an unknown number of minutes just laying in his arms before finally forcing herself to leave and hurry home to clean off the smell of Garth and their love making.

So, how did this lead to Hagan waking up in bed with Ingrid, Freya, and Henry of Riverwalk? That is simple. The Viking Chief hadn't yet chosen the female version of his wife's ung favør stud for Henry before Freya had made it clear she was up to the task, so after the encounter between the shieldmaiden and Kirstin's father, Hagan got word to Freya that she had been chosen for the position and was to be in the tent she shared with Ingrid and one of the other single shieldmaidens ready, willing, and able to serve the Englishman.

Freya, of course, was more than happy to comply, and -- thirty or forty minutes later, who really knew? -- when Hagan delivered a very drunk Henry to the tent on the premise of showing him some whatever that neither of them would remember later, it was only seconds later than the clothes were coming off and Henry's cock was deep inside the highly energetic young Viking woman.

The Christian didn't last long, however; he was drunk and the immense pleasure of unloading his balls inside the beautiful Freya were just too much for him. Freya wasn't finished yet, though, and -- though they'd resisted it for so many years before this -- Hagan was ramming his groin into the heated honey's ass and thighs, driving her to her orgasms, plural, before she collapsed beside the passed out village Elder.

The chain only seemed to keep getting longer, though, and as Freya was coming down from her third or fourth orgasm while Hagan was still searching for his first, who should arrive but the shieldmaiden for whom he'd yearned for so many years but only had the night before. Ingrid was quickly out of her clothes as well, and she put her energy to good use finishing off Hagan and then finishing herself off with her very nimble fingers.

The night ended with Ingrid's climax.

And now, here she was waking up to a sudden chill on the back of her thighs and ass. Realizing what was happening, she growled at Hagan, telling him to go back to sleep. "It's your wedding night. You don't have to get out of bed."

That, of course, made Ingrid snicker under the bedding. Hagan had gotten married last night to his second wife, and neither of the two women in bed with him at the moment were either of those two women. She let her hands begin wandering about under the covers; she found her lover's hairy legs and her fellow shieldmaiden's shaved limbs, something many but not all of the Northmen women did because they knew some men liked it.

But then she found the hip of a third body, and fumbling around she found herself grasping a cock swollen as morning wood. She threw the bedding back off her head and looked to Hagan first, then to Henry. Then, she laughed. "Does he even realize he's here? Last night he looked like a tree in the wind."

Ingrid was tempted to slip a bit closer and take the Christian's cock into her mouth, but -- like Hagan -- Henry likely had to pee from all the drink the night before. So instead, she only rose and began to dress her naked body, telling Hagan, "You should probably get him outside to pee before he does it here in my bed, and you should probably do it without raising a lot of attention."

As she began to head outside, carrying her shoes and weapons belt, Ingrid informed her Chief, "You might want to know this. Your mother-in-law is in the storage tent, naked with your nephew. Garth."

That was no longer true, of course, but it had been when Ingrid had come home to her own tent and to the sight of her new lover trying hard as he could to empty his balls into her roommate's pussy.

 

[TimTimTyner]

(OOC: This is the best picture I could find to represent Henry.)


Henry awoke similarly to Hagan, with a serious need to piss. As he rose, though, he found his head throbbing to a far greater degree than that of his new son-in-law. It was a moment before he was sitting with his haunches on his calves and ankles as, like Hagan, he blinked his eyes to a sense of clarity and looked about himself.

Laying beside him, naked and on full display, was a most incredible young woman who most certainly was not his wife, and closing his eyes, Henry moaned, "Oh dear God, what have I done?" He looked down to his cock, which was rock hard and somehow much redder in color than it normally was. He looked to the where the woman's firm, shapely buttocks and thighs met and saw red there as well. He doubted very much that he'd popped the woman's cherry, making the more logical answer that she'd been deep into her Moon Blood.

The tent flap flew open and another woman -- a shieldmaiden -- entered, saw the two naked people, and went about her business. Henry quickly pulled the bedding to cover his groin, causing the woman to laugh as she nodded toward the tent in his lap and spoke in Norse.

"She says she's seen one before, and that you need not be shy," Hagan said from the still open tent flap. He laughed at Henry's reaction; he looked absolutely petrified. When the shieldmaiden departed with her weapons to stand watch, Henry entered and dropped into a pile of possessions near the tent wall. Knowing what the other man was thinking, Hagan said, "There is no reason to feel guilty, Henry. You've done nothing wrong."

"I slept with another woman," the Englishman said with despair in his voice. "I slept with another woman, while my wife is dying in the bed we have shared for almost two decades."

Hagan wanted to say Your wife isn't in her own bed, and she isn't alone, but he resisted. Of course, he would have been wrong, but nine hours earlier he wouldn't have been.

"Is that the woman I met last night, Freya?" Henry asked, looking down at the naked and still passed out woman. When Hagan confirmed his suspicion, Henry looked to the heavens -- or at least to the top of the tent -- and said, "Please, God, forgive me."

"The Gods don't care," Hagan said, laughing. "The Gods would have joined you last night if they weren't busy battling one another in the afterlife."

Henry was searching for his clothes and donning them quickly. "What do I tell my wife? What do I say to Bethany?"

"You say that you and I fell drank ourselves to sleep down in my boat," Hagan told him, already having figured a story out for his new wife's father. "You tell her you fell into the water trying to get out this morning, and that is why you are all wet."

By now, Henry was dressed, except for his boots, and he turned and asked Hagan, "Wet? I'm not wet. Why would I--"

But before he could finish, the much bigger Hagan had a hold of Henry's elbow and he was leading the staggering man to the river's edge. Henry tried asking what was going on and even tried resisting, but Hagan had at least 4 inches and 50 pounds on him, and before he knew it, Henry was flying forward, unable to maintain his footing, and falling belly flat in the cold water of the river.

Hagan laughed as the man bobbed back up to the surface and sputtered. "See? You fell into the river. Take your clothes off and bathe. I will bring you something to wear. You can't go home smelling like bleeding pussy." As Hagan turned, he laughed some more and added, "Maybe I'll send Freya down as she is, and you can wash the smell of you off of her, too!"

 

[AmyRoberts]

Freya had awoken when Hagan pulled the bedding back to expose the other three people in his bed, but she pretended to still be passed out. She'd always been a light sleeper, which she considered an important facet of living the dangerous life of a shieldmaiden. She couldn't understand the words of the conversation taking place between her Chief and Riverwalk's Lord -- she didn't understand Henry wasn't such -- but she could certainly understand the tone of the conversation: from Hagan came forgiveness and understanding and from Henry came panic and regret.

Freya didn't resent Henry's regret for having had sex with her, of course. Hell, he probably didn't remember a moment of it now as he'd been very much intoxicated at the time. She remembered it, though; she hadn't expected him to be able to sport an erection and had simply planned on some non-penetration fun with the Christian, and yet Henry was not only able to get it up but the it that he got up was one of the largest cocks she'd ever had in her. Henry might not remember last night's fun, but Freya had orgasmed three times, the first when the man had ignored or didn't notice that she was waving her red flag and put his head between her thighs anyway.

She cracked her eyes just enough to watch Hagan nearly drag the man out of the tent, then chuckled as she got up and dressed for a river bath. She arrived at the river bank in only her shift just as Hagan was saying, "Maybe I'll send Freya down as she is, and you can wash the smell of you off of her, too!"

"Too late," she called to her Chief. She looked past him to find Henry pushing his trousers down and splashing water about his genitals. Again she chuckled, telling Hagan as she passed him, "Should I tell him how good he was last night or let him wonder?"

Henry caught sight of her as she neared the water, and his eyes grew large as she pulled the shift up over her head, dropped it, and dove naked into the water. She came up near him, rolled to her back to flash her firm, young breasts, then kicked her feet to propel her out into the portion of the river that had virtually no current.

"Care to swim with me, my Lord?" she asked, casually reaching her hands back over her head to pull herself farther into the river. She rolled to her belly, flashing her fit ass, then rolled back again to look back at Henry over her cold-swollen nipples. "I'll race you to the other side, and then maybe we can fuck again? You were magnificent last night."

Then smiling broadly, Freya rolled over again and made her way across the 200 foot width of the water, not at all expecting to be joined by the married Christian.

////////////////////////
////////////////////////​

(OOC: I don't have a pic for Bethany. Do you want to find one?)


Bethany awoke to the smell of eggs and flour pancakes frying in pig grease. She immediately recalled the previous night and her infidelity with a magnificent heathen with whom she couldn't even converse. She looked for her husband and -- not finding him -- assumed he was already out and about dealing with his daily tasks, with the Northmen, or with a combination of both. She called out for him, not really expecting his response; Kirstin called back instead, telling her mother to get her lazy butt out of bed and come eat.

Slipping a thin robe over her sleeping gown and heading for the kitchen, Bethan found her daughter filling two plates and setting them on the table. She informed her mother, "Mingsu stopped by earlier. I think she was waiting outside for signs that we were awake, actually. She asked us to come see Torild first thing. I don't think she is doing well."

"Where is your father?" Bethany asked, the guilt of the previous night sounding in her voice.

"Mingsu says he and Hagan got drunk last night and were talking in Hagan's boat," Kirstin said, not realizing she was only telling the men's practiced story. "They fell asleep there. I'm sure father will be back shortly."

Bethany said virtually nothing through the rest of breakfast, and it was only after they had cleaned up the dishware that she took her daughter in her hands and said, "I have to tell you something that will affect you indirectly."

She explained to Kirstin about how Torild had asked Bethany's assistance in committing suicide. "I think she plans to end her suffering soon. Very soon. You know what that means in regards to you and Hagan."

Kirstin only nodded. She wanted her mother to think she was dreading giving herself physically to the Northern pagan, but in all honesty, Kirstin was actually somewhat excited about the opportunity.

"Help me pack up some things, and we will go tend to Torild," Bethany said. Wear your Church dress and make your hair pretty. I'm sure we will run into your husband today."

 

[TimTimTyner]

Despite being up to his hips in cold river water, Henry's cock began to swell immediately upon seeing Freya strip down to nothing but a smile. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she dove into the water and rolled repeatedly, showing off one incredible womanly feature, then another, then the first again. He so badly wanted to follow after her to the other bank and repeat what they'd done the night before. It seemed so unfair to Henry that the one and only time he'd ever betrayed his vows to his Bethany that he'd been too drunk to remember it, and with an erotic beauty like Freya no less.

He watched her until she was midway across the river, then forced himself to turn away. Looking down, he could see his erection and knew he couldn't get out until it was returned to its proper cold river state. He waited, looking up the bank to see if anyone was paying him any attention, which no one was. He continued to wait, but every time he thought about his situation, his cock only seemed to stiffen more, as if willing him to turn, swim, and make use of it.

"Henry!" Hagan called from the bank when he arrived with a robe for Henry to don; one of the older women had returned with the Chief, ready to wash the Englishman's clothes for him. When Henry showed no signs of coming out, Hagan looked to the old woman and laughed, thinking the man's hesitation was because of being in mixed company. Reminding Henry of the shieldmaiden who'd walked in on him earlier, Hagan said, "I think Velika has seen a cock or two in her life, too, Henry. Come out. You're not going to shock anyone."

Henry hesitated, then -- with his hands before his groin -- he hustled up out of the water toward Hagan. The old Norwegian woman peeked at the Englishman, chuckled, and spoke in Norse. When Henry reached him, Hagan handed over the robe and translated, "Velika says you have a horse's cock and wants you to know that she's old but still worthy."

Hagan laughed, the 50 something old woman laughed, and Henry -- quickly covering himself -- couldn't help but laugh, too. He said very softly to Hagan, "I think last night was enough trouble for me. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to my wife."

"I already have," Hagan said, explaining that he'd already sent Mingsu up to speak with Bethany. Henry was caught off guard by this. Hagan told him, "Your wife is on her way down to see my wife."

The two men headed to Hagan and Torild's tent, where the former found some clothes for the latter to wear. They were huge on Henry, of course, but that wasn't his main concern. Short of the ax, sword, dagger, and/or bow that the Vikings always seemed to be carrying with them, Henry believed that he looked more like a Pagan Northman than a Christian Englishman. He couldn't go home like this, for obvious reasons.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Torild hadn't been surprised when Hagan failed to come to their tent last night. As her illness deepened over the past couple of years, he'd ended more and more nights passed out in some random place with an empty stein at his side. She didn't blame him for not being able to face her agony.

"Good morning to you, husband," she said when he and their son-in-law arrived. She chuckled at Henry's appearance, then coughed in pain. When she regained her composure, they told Torild about the fictitious fall into the river. She found it humorous, but did her best not to laugh. Bethany and Kirstin arrived, escorted by Mingsu, and Torild asked her husband, "Hagan, my love, will you give me a few minutes with our guests from Riverwalk. But do not go far. I need to speak with you later."

After the two men had left, the strong front Torild had been putting up for his benefit collapsed. Her eyes filled with tears as the pain revealed itself. The two Christians went to her, comforting her with their presence and pain killers. After she'd gotten past the agony, she asked Kirstin and Mingsu to give her a moment alone with Bethany. The two young women knew what was happening. Neither of them wanted to see Torild die. But they both knew that she had had enough pain for two life times.

"Torild wishes you to go to her," Bethany told Hagan when she emerged some time later. As he headed for the tent, she caught the Viking Chief by the arm and looked up to him with a solemn expression. She was reluctant to continue, but she had promised Torild. She was blunt, but with as soft, sincere, and sympathetic a tone as she could manage: "This will be the last time you hold your wife in your hands, Hagan."

She released her hold on him, turned and took her daughter's arm. "Kirstin, my daughter, let's go stand at the river. It's a beautiful morning."

 

[TimTimTyner]

"This will be the last time you hold your wife in your hands, Hagan."

Hagan donned a confused expression at Bethany's proclamation, wondering how could she be so certain that today of all days would be the day Torild passed. Then, he remembered that his mother-in-law was a Healer, and if the Healers of the Isles of England were anything like the Healers of the North, Bethany would have at least one compound in her bag of herbs and medicines that could end a life that needed to cease.

His heart skipped a beat at the realization of what the woman was saying, and after Bethany gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze and walked away with her daughter, Hagan drew a deep breath, released it, steeled himself against what was coming, and strode forth to be with his wife for the last time.

He kicked off his boots and shed his shirt and trousers, then slipped under the covers to hold Torild to him as they shared wonderful memories. They had regrets, too, such as not having tried again and again to have a child, even after Torild had suffered her third miscarriage. But surprisingly, they were both happy that Hagan would have a second chance at a son and heir with his new wife.

He laughed when she reminded him of the time he'd fallen off a horse and then rolled down a hill, off a short cliff, and into the fjord below. Hagan relived the event for Torild, though, it certainly wasn't necessary; she'd been in a boat a couple of dozen yards off shore, and Hagan had been showing off for her when his mount has a misstep and dumped him to the slope.

As he went on about how his sword's scabbard had twisted around and upwards and the end of it repeatedly popped him in the back of the head, Hagan reminded her, "You know, I never did find that dagger that had been in my waste. Your father gave that to me as a consolation for your turning down my first marriage proposal."

He was expecting Torild to laugh at him or at the least tell him she remembered the blade. But his wife said nothing. "Torild, my wife?" Hagan didn't look downward; if he didn't look, it couldn't be true. But the lack of breathing -- which this morning had included light wheezing -- had ceased, and Torild, wife of Chief Hagan was gone.

He slipped down further into the bed and pulled his first, true love to him and sobbed into the crook of her neck until he'd fallen asleep. At some point, others had come into the tent with almost no sound and gathered to be with Hagan when he needed them. Eventually, he kissed Torild softly on her still lips and slipped from the bed.

"We will have a pyre tonight and sacrifice a sheep to the Gods," he said as he donned his clothes, less his boots which he simply carried toward the tent's exit in his hands.

"What about a hog?" a male voice asked, continuing, "Or a calf?"

Hagan was surprised to see the question had come from Henry, who had entered the tent with his wife and daughter, as well as with Mingsu, Ingrid, and Eirik. Henry asked, "Forgive my ignorance, but does the size and value of the animal being sacrificed--"

"Yes it does," Eirik cut in, standing in for Hagan at this time when he was distraught. "A calf would please the Gods."

"Then I will bring a calf down from the village," Henry told Eirik before looking to Hagan to say with all sincerity, "To better please your Gods."

The two men shared a friendly smile, then Hagan headed outside and down toward the river; he needed to be alone.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Kirstin heard her mother tell Torild's husband softly, "This will be the last time you hold your wife in your hands, Hagan."

She caught the change in his expression when he realized what Bethany was telling him, and her heart rolled over much as his did. Her mother took her by the arm and turned her away, whispering, "He needs to do this alone."

The two of them took a slow walk away from Hagan, ending up at the very spot where the night before Kirstin had been wed. She and her mother looked at one another, quietly sharing the same thought: consummating the marriage was now at hand.

"Your husband is going to need you, my daughter," Bethany told Kirstin. "I'm not speaking specifically about needing you in his bed--"

"I understand," Kirstin interrupted softly. "I'm ready, mother. I'm not afraid."

The pair wandered about the Viking camp, arm in arm, surrounded by men, women, and children who were going about their day like normal, ignorant of the sad fact that their leader's first wife was in the final moments of her life.

There was one change to the activities of the Northmen, though Kirstin wouldn't have noticed it: they looked up from their work a lot to view her. She was an Englishwoman, a Christian, and now Hagan's wife and the mother of his future heir, so she was most definitely a figure of interest to them.

They passed near the entrance to the Chief's tent twice and on the third pass Mingsu -- who had been inconspicuously listening in on the conversation between Hagan and Torild -- signaled them to come closer. She said in a solemn tone, "It's over. The pain is over, at last."

Mingsu began to sob, and Bethany took the girl into her arms to comfort her. The three stood there together for some time before Ingrid stepped up and, after a moment, opened the tent flap a bit and checked on Hagan. She indicated to the other women that it was time to enter, and the four of them -- with some male Northmen following in behind -- entered the tent to be with their Chief.

Henry and Eirik were there, and the former offered to supply a calf for a sacrifice to help usher Torild to her new home with the Gods. Kirstin was surprised at her father; her mother had surprised her with her quick show of tolerance and even acceptance for Pagan rituals, but seeing her father do that same was just not something she'd expected.

The decision was made, and Hagan left the tent. Bethany again told Kirstin that he needed to be alone, but the latter waited only a moment before following her new husband out. She found him at the water's edge; by now, word of Torild's death had somehow already begun spreading across the village, and the Vikings were giving their leader his space.

Kirstin waited several yards away in silence, until Hagan turned and found her there. She descended to stand near him, looking out upon the river with him. After a bit, she said, "It is not my intention to replace Torild, Hagan. No one could replace your first wife, not even your second wife. I am just that, your second. I will never be your first, and that is the way it should be."

She moved closer to Hagan and took his elbow into her hands, holding close to him. Kirstin rather surprised herself. Two days ago, she didn't know this man. Two days ago, she hadn't known any Northmen, let alone been married to one. But she felt close to Hagan already, and she felt close to his community. The Northman heathens, thus far, had been very kind and very gentle people, taking into consideration that her face was still swollen and blue in spots.

"Tell me about Torild, please, Hagan," she requested. "Tell me about Torild, so that I will always know her as your wife and your friend."

 

[TimTimTyner]

Hagan was lost to his sorrows when he felt someone behind him and turned to find Kirstin quietly watching him from atop the bank. He smiled weakly, then gestured her to join him. She expressed her sorrows for the loss of his wife, then asked him to tell her about Torild.

He found himself telling his second wife the same story about falling into the fjord that he'd just shared with his first wife. It had always been the fondest of memories for Hagan, and it felt like a continuation of Torild's life to share it with Kirstin. He spoke of how they'd first met, of how she'd refused his proposal for marriage -- twice! -- before finally accepting it, and more.

When Hagan finally realized he'd been droning on for what Kirstin might have thought was an eternity, he turned them back to the camp, saying, "We have much to do to prepare for Torild's funeral."

At the top of the bank, Hagan initially separated from Kirstin but then stopped and pulled her back to him. He looked down into the eyes of the shorter woman and said with confidence, "You will not be sorry you married me. I vow this to the Gods."

He leaned to kiss Kirstin on the cheeks, then turned away to begin work on the pyre with others.

<> <> <> <> <>​

The Riverwalk Christians surrounded Henry in the Square as they argued about the Northmen on the river bank below them. At least half of the village's residents still hadn't accepted the presence of the heathens on what was rightfully their land, and the half of the people who had initially accepted that that had little or no choice were becoming less accepting of it with the pagan wedding, the pagan funeral, and the rumors that Henry and possibly other villagers had had improper sexual relations with the pagans living less than three hundred yards from them.

Henry's reaction to being accused of having spent the night in a Northman tent with a woman who wasn't his wife had been met with anger and a threat of violence. That had ended that topic quickly as one of verbal exchange, but the suspicions on the faces of a few of the villagers -- including his wife -- left Henry feeling horribly guilty and ashamed.

He couldn't know, of course, that Bethany herself had lain with a Viking, nor could he have known she'd done it with far less ale fogging her brain than had he.

Henry did his best to reassure the Christians of Riverwalk that the Pagans of Riverbank -- the name some of the Northmen were already giving their camp -- were not a threat, to either the lives, the economy, or the religion of the original villagers. He promised, "They are going to be a benefit to us! They are hard working. They will help us farm and log and build. Our village is crumbling from age and a lack of strong hands to maintain it. The Northmen are strong, capable, energic men. Women, too. Hagan has reassured me that his people will help us as we ask and only as we ask. They will not intrude upon our lives, but will instead help--"

"Will not intrude upon our lives?" someone called out mockingly, laughing. "Their leader stole your daughter for his bed, to replace his elderly, dying wife with a girl he will rape and pollute with his heathen seed--"

Someone called the man out as being inappropriate, some pushing occurred, and a fight began amongst the Christians over their beliefs about the Pagans. Henry did his best to stop the bickering and the fighting, but in the midst of it all he was accidently struck in the face with an elbow. He backed away, holding his profusely bleeding nose.

Defeated, Henry withdrew from the Square to tend to his nose. Bethany was there, and as she helped him with his gusher, he told her, "I give up. Let them figure it out on their own. We have our own issues to deal with, namely, we haven't determined whether Kirstin will continue to live in our home, in our village, with our religion, or will she..."

Bethany knew what he was asking, so Henry didn't finish the question.

<> <> <> <> <>​

The flames rose high into the air from the pyre that was built on the rise just inland from Riverbank. Not having been a warrior, Torild wasn't sent into the water on a boat but was instead sent to the Gods from the land. The fire would rage through the night until there was nothing left of the pyre and body but ash and bones, and the following night -- out of the sight of others -- Ingrid and other chosen shieldmaidens would collect Torild's bones and bury them right there where the rest of her had been burned away.

Hagan continued to stand there within the heat zone of the fire until long after the formal portion of the ceremony had finished and the others had left to give him his space.

 

[AmyRoberts]

Introducing Bethany's Image

Kirstin found herself intrigued and impressed with the stories of Torild told by her husband. She hadn't been a female warrior -- a shieldmaiden -- but she had lived a full and respectable life in any case, helping Hagan lead his Clan and standing as an example to women throughout their former village in Norway. The only fault Kirstin could find with Torild's life was that she had been unable to produce an heir for her husband, and that, of course, had been the will of God. Or of the Gods, plural, she asked herself.

"You will not be sorry you married me," Hagan told her as they departed the river's edge. "I vow this to the Gods."

"I believe you, my husband," Kirstin responded. She smiled, then chuckled. "And I will excuse you for having forced me into this marriage on the condition that you are a kind and caring and providing husband."

Hagan leaned to kiss Kirstin on the cheeks, but then she held him by the front of his clothing, hesitated, then pulled his to her as she herself stood on her tippy toes to press her mouth to his. It was a long, meaningful kiss, though, not overly erotic in nature. When their lips separated, Kirstin said, "I am your wife now. Torild will not be offended if you kiss me. Nor will she be offended if you take me to your bed tonight. It is what she wanted for you, Hagan. For you to have a wife, to be happy, and make little ones."

They went there ways, with Kirstin going to find her mother for the trip back up the hill to Riverwalk. When they got there, she again found people staring at her with interest as had the Vikings earlier. But these stared contained a great deal of scorn and disappointment.

Kirstin would learn more later that evening when her father became embroiled in an argument at the Square with the Elders and others. She was proud in her father's support and defense of the Vikings, and she would tell him so later when she had the chance. For now, she stayed back in the shadows and simply listened in silence to the criticisms from her friends and neighbors.

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Clara was doing no waiting at all, however. No sooner had the sun dropped and made travel more inconspicuous, she made her way to the forest trail that led down to where the fishers had their weirs and crayfish traps, then headed along the bank to Riverbank. The Vikings who caught sight of her gave Clara long, suspicious looks but none stopped her.

Soon enough, she caught sight of Hafdan and gestured him to her. She slipped back into between a pair of tents as he approached, then smiled at his arrival and made an explanatory gesture of slipping an extended finger into the curled fingers of her other hand while whispering, "Fuck me again, heathen."

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Bethany was horrified when someone hinted that her husband's overnight presence in Riverbank might have included his having sex with one of the Viking females. The villagers' belief in his infidelity would have been bad enough; if they had had any idea that she, too, had partaken of sex with one of the heathens -- in the name of one magnificent, young male named Garth -- the pair of them would likely have been banished from Riverwalk.

Fearful of someone making a similar accusation about her many hours in Riverbank, Bethany remained out of sight of the Square's occupants until she saw her husband take an elbow in the nose. She went quickly to his aid, taking him out into the light of a village torch to tend to his bleeding nose.

"I give up," Henry told Bethany. "Let them figure it out on their own."

Figure out that I laid with a Viking? her brain reminded her. No, that wasn't what Henry meant, of course, but it was still a fear for Bethany.

Henry went on, "We have our own issues to deal with, namely, we haven't determined whether Kirstin will continue to live in our home, in our village, with our religion, or will she..."

"She will live with her husband, my husband," Bethany said firmly as she used a handkerchief wetted with saliva to wipe away the blood on his lips and chin. When Henry looked her in the eyes, she stressed, "Kirstin is a wife now, and she will live in her husband's home. Tent or house, it is where she belongs, and neither you nor any of these people who call themselves our friends and neighbors will prevent Kirstin from residing under her husband's roof or sleeping in his bed."

Bethany turned her husband for their home, telling him, "We must get you into a shirt that isn't bloodied, for we have a funeral to which we must attend."

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Kirstin and Bethany both were in awe of the funeral pyre as its flames reached upward and sent their sparkling embers high into the heavens. Hagan's new wife was surprised that there was no music or chanting or moaning or humming; the only noise through the entire ceremony was that of the fire crackling as it consumed the fuel and body of its occupant.

"Time go," Mingsu told the two women and Henry after the fire had raged for quite some time. "Leave my master with my mistress."

Kirstin walked with her parents up the slope toward their home, but as they reached the ridge, the youngest of the three stopped. She could see in their faces by the light of the moon that they knew what she was thinking, and without a word, she hugged and kissed them both, then turned back for Riverbank.

She found Mingsu inside Hagan's tent and asked, "May I sit with you? I would like to speak with Hagan."

The pair of them sat there and -- like Kirstin had with her husband at the river's edge -- listened to stories about Torild and the Vikings in general.

Meanwhile, as Hagan turned away from the pyre, Ingrid was waiting a short distance away for the man who was both recently widowed and recently married. When he caught her eye and neared her, Ingrid shared her sorrow with him, then quietly asked, "Would you like to come to my bed, my Chief?"

Neither of them had any idea that Kirstin was awaiting Hagan, ready to share his bed with him if that was what he needed on this most solemn of nights.