TITLE: None yet, ideas welcome.
RATING: R (Extremely adult content)
NOTES: I will get the idea and figure out a suitable ending eventually. Don't worry, I'll post soon!
My stomach growled loudly as the rain poured down outside. It was the evening of my third day. My throat was sore from calling for help; I couldn’t speak much louder than a whisper, at this point. My water was almost gone, though I had drawn it out with success these past days. I reached up and held it to the rain, which seemed to work, although the process was slow. When the bottle had filled half way—after about five or six minutes—I switched arms. I would be able to use this one less, but at least it would fill my bottle up again. I screwed the cap back on and pulled my hoodie back over my head, putting the bottle into my purse and laying down. The stack of papers was almost finished, now—Valka’s story was almost over. I shuddered to think about what I would do if I had to spend much more time in this place. My heart went out too her, both at the loss of her cousin and at her final hours in a cave. I began to understand the loneliness, and I knew of course the sorrow of loss. Sleep came quickly, and I prayed that—if I did die in here—death would come quickly, too.
It was later that night that the rain began. I stood on the hill where Herger had fought his duel, the water soaking through my tunic and trousers. Perhaps this was my fate, after all…to survive. Survive, and marry, and bear children, like all good women must. I felt hot tears course down my face, but made no move to wipe them away. They were a sharp contrast to the cold rain, and I relished the sensation. After a while, I felt myself shivering. I walked into the Great Hall, passing through the central room, where many of the survivors—warriors and townspeople alike—slept deeply. Quietly I entered what I thought was an empty chamber. I was surprised to see a fire burning in the hearth. Buliwyf had laid his fur cloak on the stone floor. His armor was by the partially open window, and every now and again I heard a chime of rain as it hit metal. He had changed into plain clothes; I could tell by his position that the stared pensively into the flames. I made to back out of the room.
“Stay,” He said softly.
I walked forward, pulling the door closed behind me. He turned his head toward me, frowning at my drowned state. In one fluid motion, he stood to his full height and walked toward me, taking hold of my shoulders.
“You are shaking,” He said.
I looked to the floor as a blush crept to my cheeks. He stood so close; I could feel the warmth of his body against mine. The light from the fire played in his hair, and he looked like a God among men. He brought a hand up to my face, tracing the scar near my ear with two fingers. His brow furrowed, and he brought his thumb to a stray tear that fell slowly down my cheek.
“This is not rain,” He said. “What troubles you?”
“It seems the All-Father wishes me to become a wife and mother,” I said simply.
He studied me for a moment, his eyes moving to the necklace I wore—a spiral token on a leather cord. After a moment, he returned to my face. I released myself from his hands and walked to the window, my heart sinking.
“Father will marry me to an old man, I am certain of it.” I spoke slowly, trying to keep my emotions in check. “I will be a widow before I am thirty years on this earth!”
There was silence, and then I heard Buliwyf inhale as if to speak. Regardless, I found my voice first.
“If I were given a choice, I would wed a young, strong man…of my own choosing! No good can come of this! My father has slain me, Buliwyf.”
I felt his hands on my shoulders after a moment. He leaned his head down, his hair tickling my skin. His teeth nipped my ear, and the heat returned to my stomach.
“Marry me, then,” He whispered.
I turned to face him. “What?”
He took my face in one massive hand. “Marry me, Valka.”
I ran one hand down his face, my mind and heart racing. Before I could reply, he brought his mouth to mine. His tongue slipped between my teeth, tasting me like a man who was given water after wandering through a desert. I melted under his mouth, but he put an arm around my waist to steady me. I reached up and ran my hands through his hair, the hairs on my own skin rising in pleasure. He gave what I thought to be a mix between a moan and a growl, and I was lost. His strong arms lifted me off the ground—I must have been light as a feather to him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he carried me to the furs before the hearth. His mouth moved to my neck, nipping gently at the tender spot where my shoulders began. He stripped the wet clothes from me ever-so-slowly; the chill in my bones began to seep away. I found my hands wandering to his waist, lifting the tunic off of him. He shrugged it over his head, the muscles in his back moving like water and setting my blood on fire. I brought my lips to his chest; grazing his nipples with my teeth as I inhaled the scent of him—wood smoke, and pure masculinity. He lay down, and I dragged my tongue down his torso, following the trail of hair until I came to his waist. I smiled and pulled the boots from his feet, his trousers close behind. He was naked before me, and I was humbled. His prick was long and throbbing, pointing up towards his chest. I brought a hand to it and stroked him, slowly. He moaned and threw his head back, slamming his eyes shut as my fingers played on the sensitive head. Part of me enjoyed having such control over him.
I took his length into my mouth, watching with wicked delight as he grabbed at the cloak, the soft white fur spilling through the gaps in his fist. I could feel the wetness in my mouth, and knew he didn’t have long. His breath came in thick, panting measures. I used my tongue to tease the head, and after a moment he shuddered, emptying himself into my mouth with several long moans. I swallowed hard, and then returned to his lips. I relished the taste of him, the feel of his hot tongue on mine. They writhed together like two snakes, exploring every inch of each other. I pulled back for a moment, and he rolled me onto my back in one swift movement. I was both terrified and excited by the sheer strength of him. He took my breast into his mouth, sucking the hardened nipple, while kneading the other with his hand. The feel of the fur cloak against my body was divine; I moved my hands against it with ecstasy. His mouth moved down my abdomen with slow, hot kisses, finally coming to the darkness between my legs. He spread my limbs apart and entered me with one finger, pushing it in until it was gone. I gasped and my eyes fluttered shut, my head falling back as he added a second finger and began to move back and forth. I felt the heat move through me, a slow burn that was tantalizing and delicious.
My hips bucked against his hand as a wave of pleasure broke over me, and I was still riding it when he took his hand away. He moved above me, guiding himself into me. I moaned as I took the length of him, and again as he pulled back. He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep at first. I could hear moans, and realized after a minute that they belonged to me. We fell into a rhythm, and I could feel the orgasm building inside me. He brought his face close to mine, his mouth devouring my neck. I grabbed at his hair and cried out his name, coming hard as he pulled me into a kiss. He thrust harder and harder, letting out a cry moments later as his seed spilled into me. We lay there, spent and separated, breathing the only sound. I had my head on his chest. I felt him shifting and pulling at something, and before I could wonder what he was doing, he put a necklace over my head. It was a unicursal Valknut, one of Odin’s symbols. I smiled and reached behind my neck, loosening the cord of my own necklace. I kissed him hard, slipping the spiral over his neck as I drew away. His eyes searched mine for a moment, the blue spheres looking into the core of me. He kissed me deeply, then, one hand twining in my freed auburn hair.
“We are married now,” He said softly, against my mouth.
And so it was that I met the All-Father’s fate.
The morning had come and gone. I put down the page once I had finished it, and looked at the amulet in my hands. I traced the design of the Valknut, a slight smile on my face. Valka and Buliwyf married, and this was the proof of it. She must have loved him very much; I could feel it, not only reading her tale, but in this necklace. Buliwyf was a proud man; a brave man. I found myself suddenly overcome with sadness at the thought of their separation. Valka had died in this cave, alone. How terrible that must have been, to meet your end away from those you love! I was reaching the end of the tale, now. Part of me did not want to know the conclusion, but I felt that I owed it to Valka to finish. I propped my hoodie behind me like a cushion, and returned to the runes.
My mind snapped into consciousness before my eyes opened. I could feel something—a hand on my face and hair, gentle caresses that roused me from sleep. My eyes opened, and I smiled at Buliwyf, who was propped up on an elbow above me.
He leaned down and kissed me, his tongue darting into my mouth.
“Good morning, wife,” He said.
I felt a surge of happiness hearing those words. I took his face in my hand and brought him down to kiss me. We were gentle at first, our mouths and minds still groggy with the effects of sleep. He slanted his mouth over mine; blood rushed to my cheeks as he devoured me.
A knock on the door froze us, mid-kiss.
“Buliwyf!” It was Helfdane’s voice. “The King requests your presence at once.”
I felt his muscles move as he answered, loud as he dared so close to my ear.
“I hear you, Helfdane. Give me a few moments.”
There were footsteps as Helfdane walked away, and we were left with each other again. Buliwyf kissed me once more and stood, dressing into plain clothes. I watched as he tucked my necklace beneath his tunic; I decided I would do the same. He extended a hand and lifted me to my feet, whereupon I dressed as well. As I pulled my dry shirt over my head, I felt him plant a kiss on the nape of my neck. I turned to him and met his mouth, loving the feel of his hair over my face. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him as our tongues met again. He broke away suddenly, and walked from the room, the door closing behind him. I smiled and picked up his cloak, shaking it out before hanging it with his armor. For ten minutes, I waited. Then, quietly, I slipped from the room and into the Hall. Buliwyf and the King were absorbed in conversation; I was not seen until I stepped outside.
Helfdane sat on the wall nearby, sharpening his sword with a flat whetstone.
“Did you sleep well, little Valka?” He asked me.
“I did,” I replied, willing the blush in my cheeks to disappear.
Thankfully, Helfdane did not look at me for very long. It was not until later that afternoon that all of us gathered in the Great Hall, dressed in our armor once again. Queen Wielow had also joined us, at her husband’s request. Edgtho was the last to enter, bringing with him the corpse of a Wendol. He flung the dead weight from his shoulder and onto the floor. Helfdane, still nursing a bandage on his right arm, walked over to the corpse and removed the bear hide from its head with his boot.
“It looks like the mating of a man and some beast,” Weath said, disgusted.
“It is a man,” Eben said with certainty, drawing surprised looks from Buliwyf and Herger.
“If it is a man,” Buliwyf said. “It must sleep. If it sleeps, it has a lair, and we have a trail.”
Herger looked astonished. “Attack them?”
Buliwyf looked up. “Is there a choice?”
He had a point. There was a silence. It was the only way to proceed, but that didn’t mean we had a plan.
“Come with me,” Wielow said. “There is a woman who can help.”