History of Beauty

by Meraki P. Lyhne

  “And the other one?”

  “I am sure where Ødger stands. We must simply convince Ulf.”

  Elakdon looked at Foldon. His hunger was still out of control. “Will it be of great nuisance to you if I asked you all to come here?”

  Trygve followed Elakdon’s line of sight to Foldon, the Youngling not paying attention as he was scratching his neck while contemplating his next move in hnefatafl against Dendon.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Absolutely not wrong, but soon, that Youngling will cross the table and hump me.”

  Trygve blinked.

  “And I have claimed him to be mine. His new hunger is unpredictable, and considering the journey to your place—” Not to mention the pain it would cause Elakdon’s already sore ass. It needed to be ready in a few hours.

  “A King can claim his own people?” Trygve asked.

  “It takes nothing of his freedom. It is a promise from me to him to see him strong. In return, he will become a Guard Lord.”

  “I see. I shall extend your invitation and explain how a promise keeps you from coming to us. A man who keeps his promises must be a good first impression after all.”

  “I will have a hearty meal waiting.”

  Trygve turned and left just as Foldon growled loudly at the game. Father sat back and laughed. “Feed, young Foldon, your mind is not on your strategies.”

  Foldon’s gaze immediately found Elakdon’s, and as expected, Foldon took the short route between them, knocking over the pieces of the game as he stepped over the table. He even ignored Father grousing about it, and Elakdon was loosening his clothes as Foldon caught up to him.

  Yeah, that Youngling was eager at the best of times, and Elakdon ended up on the floor, his clothes halfway off, and the cold floor against his stomach as he felt warm skin against his ass. He didn’t mind it one bit. He loved the feelings Foldon awoke in him when he got that hungry.

  As the first spit-slick finger penetrated him, Elakdon released a dose in his ass to add to the slickness. As soon as Foldon penetrated with his fat cock, the dose reached his organ and took hold. But he needed more. As a Fountain, he needed all that gland had, yet Elakdon had learned never to empty that one.

  “I love the feel of you,” Foldon whispered and pulled Elakdon close. “I love being buried in you, the sounds you make when I do this…” Foldon pushed in and ended with a hard rotate of his pelvis, and it sure coaxed some sounds from Elakdon’s mouth. “Yeah!” Foldon repeated, and Elakdon scratched at the floor as his body and mind were pushed by a steep rise of pleasure.

  “Oh, do that again. And again.”

  Foldon chuckled and continued his ridiculously pleasurable move, and Elakdon groaned into the floor, his orgasm moving closer as his spine felt afire from the pleasure Foldon got from manipulating Elakdon’s body like that.

  Sucking three or four doses out of Foldon never took long when he was given complete control of the situation. Asking him to fight the dose, on the other hand…not much pleasure to be had from that. At least for Elakdon. Dendon, on the other hand, had helped suck the doses out of Foldon a few times, and the Guard Lord could hump Foldon to quaking orgasms while being cursed from Midgard to Niflheim for taking his sweet-ass time.

  As domineering as Foldon was as a top, he was as a bottom, too.

  Elakdon’s first orgasm claimed him, and he dosed Foldon again as he held still inside Elakdon’s ass, riding out the waves.

  Foldon roared and flipped Elakdon over, yanked his pants down all the way to free a leg, and shuffled Elakdon onto his lap. Elakdon knew well enough to grab a tight hold of Foldon’s tunic while Foldon reached under Elakdon’s legs to hold Elakdon’s ass over his groin as he thrust up into him.

  The pleasurable stab bordered on painful, but Elakdon didn’t mind. As a Royal, he really did love anything his partner did, yet he was even beginning to understand what Nol-Plydon had said about wanting to know what his own pleasures were. But with Foldon and Styrk, Elakdon didn’t care at all. He just cared about that sweet sensation of energy filling up his spine, the maximum high for him being when it did so so rapidly that the one he was with lost all sense of self and their surroundings.

  This did not feel like one of those times, but the look on Foldon’s face as he lost himself in the rhythm that he set was still a sight of beauty.

  “Oh, yes, Foldon, do that thing. Do that thing I love,” Elakdon urged.

  A victorious grin spread on Foldon’s face. He then locked gazes with Elakdon and did his hip-roll, his dick touching everywhere, making Elakdon feel fuller, and the bulbous head touching all the right spots.

  Elakdon gasped from the intensity, and energy pooled faster toward his spine. Foldon groaned loudly and threw his head back, continuing the torturous hip-roll. In that position, it was ridiculously good, and Elakdon came not long after, clutching at the fabric of Foldon’s tunic to avoid falling off his lap as his body spasmed.

  Foldon followed on that wave, finally letting go of Elakdon’s long legs so he wasn’t as doubled over.

  But Elakdon stayed where he was, rearranging his legs so that he could remain seated, straddling Foldon’s lap. It was an awkward position, and he mourned the loss of the feel of his cock as it slipped out, yet he squeezed his ass in the hope of keeping the nourishing semen trapped inside of him.

  Foldon focused on Elakdon and caressed his cheek, smiling. “I almost had Father.”

  Elakdon chuckled. “Then go see if you can out-think him now.”

  “Too lazy now.”

  “But I have guests coming in. Humans. I should not greet Earls with your cum dripping down the inside of my legs.”

  Foldon chuckled. “But it suits you.”

  “I’m sure you’d think so.” Elakdon decided to take the initiative and stood, still squeezing his ass. His new thrall, Sune, sat by the hearth in the middle of the hall, whittling something while once in a while stoking the fire. “Sune! Bring me warm water to clean myself up.”

  “Yes, Nol!”

  Foldon grabbed Elakdon’s hips, then licked at the semen Elakdon had spilled on his own stomach. So Elakdon waited, caressing Foldon’s hair as he feasted on that.

  Finally, Foldon stood too. “Thank you,” he said, then leaned in and kissed Elakdon’s cheek. It warmed Elakdon’s heart.

  But he had to get back into his clothes, so Elakdon struggled to get his leg out of the not fully unwound legbinder, finding his pants wet from semen and dose. He’d have to change his clothes, so he made his way to his room, a constant burn going on between his cheeks from the thorough hump.

  After having freshened up and washing the doses off of himself, Elakdon returned to the hall, fully dressed and ready to meet possible new allies. Yet, he kept contemplating the extremes if he was met by animosity instead.

  Nil-Savadin and Nol-Plydon came to sit at the table with him, both choosing to sit to Elakdon’s right. Father moved to that side of the table, too, as the three Earls arrived with ten men and three women in tow.

  Elakdon stood, holding out his arms. “My friend, thank you for taking the needs of my House into consideration. Welcome.”

  Trygve looked at Foldon, who looked a lot less agitated than before. He looked alert. The Earl then stepped aside and held out his arm to introduce his company. “May I introduce Earl Knud and Earl Gunhild. This is Nol-Elakdon, King of the North of the people gifted to us by the gods.”

  “Earl Knud, welcome.” Elakdon then looked at the woman. “Your name and reputation precede you, Earl Gunhild, the shieldmaiden who took down the man who tried to rise up south of here.”

  She smiled proudly. “I found friendship where you have.” She put her hand on Trygve’s shoulder.

  Elakdon liked that. “I’m honored to have you as a guest in my House,” Elakdon said. “Both of you, please, wash up and join us. I will have all your needs tended to.” Elakdon waved Sune over. “Tend to our guests and see them refreshed.”

  “Yes, Nol.” The boy ran
off.

  All three Earls unloaded their heavy winter attire, and as a sign of good faith, they hung their swords with their skins. The men and women in their company did the same, and Elakdon looked at each face, imprinting them in his memory.

  Sune returned with a bowl of water, offering first Trygve, then Gunhild, then Knud to clean their hands and faces.

  The three Earls then sat in that same order to Elakdon’s left.

  “Many a Youngling here have replayed the battles we heard of, Earl Gunhild,” Father said. “One little Succubus in particular practice many hours a day with a sword.”

  “I shall gladly meet her and remind her that a sword was not all I used.” She pointed to her head. “I do have to ask, though,” the Earl said, sitting forward and looking at Father. “We do not share lands with the sons and daughters. In fact, we have only met a few, yet here magical eyes are everywhere. And they are…stunning.”

  Father smiled seductively.

  “Let us stay on the matter at hand and not the itch between Gunhild’s legs,” Knud said.

  Father’s eyes shone more brightly as he turned his head to look at Knud. “The matter at hand when welcoming new guests in a home is to tend to hunger and thirst. I do not care what hunger Earl Gunhild needs satisfied in this House. I just know that I will help provide for the guests of My King.”

  Earl Knud looked dissatisfied at being shut down, and Trygve looked ashamed.

  “Is she then to tend to my itch?” Earl Knud nodded toward the center of the hall behind Elakdon.

  Elakdon looked that way, finding his mom sorting through a basket of yarn while wearing her tablet weaving belt. “That would be my mother you speak of.” Elakdon heard the growl in his own voice. He had rarely heard men speak like that about a Succubus, and the few who had had been shown the door quickly by Father.

  Two Guard Lords rose from their seats at the next table, plus one human, yet he seemed more like trying to look like he shifted his weight. Yet, his eyes revealed many emotions turned on the Earl.

  “You embarrass me by your crudeness when I extend an invitation to a friend’s house!” Trygve groused.

  Father’s eyes shone more brightly, and Foldon turned on the bench so that he had one leg on each side. But Dendon, one of the Guard Lords who had risen, came to stand behind Foldon and put a hand on his shoulder.

  The need for allies and the need to not start a war in his own home battled in Elakdon, and he knew that everybody was waiting for him to make his move. They were patiently waiting to see what the new King was made of. Had the Succubus not been his mother, Elakdon was sure he would react the same way, though, and he focused on that.

  So he stood. So did half the humans who had just arrived.

  “I was under the impression we were invited here on friendly terms,” Earl Knud said.

  “Do you spit on every table you are invited to on friendly terms?” Elakdon asked.

  The Earl stood. “Unlike Gunhild, I have heard about your people. I have seen how a society living close to you withers away in focus on pleasure instead of all that must be done to keep a village flourishing. I have seen men leave their families to hump in the streets like…dogs!”

  “Do not treat the children of the gods like that!” the human, who had sent a daggered stare at his own Earl, shouted.

  One of the others stood and grabbed the man, yanking him back, which only resulted in the first attacking the one trying to keep him from speaking out against his Earl.

  The two Guard Lords ran that way. Dendon pushed Foldon back in his seat before he crossed the table.

  “Any human speaking on our behalf may absolutely brawl in my House!” Elakdon shouted in Cubi, and the Guard Lords stopped, retreating to the distance of spectators.

  Earl Knud left his seat, his focus on his brawling men. “Stop! Randr, I’ve had more than enough of your thoughts on the matters of the gods!”

  Randr, who was apparently the human defending the Cubi, got the upper hand against the man he brawled with, and sent the man backward over a table by a well-placed fist to the face. The human then turned against his Earl. “And I have had more than enough of your lack of respect toward the gods!” he sneered.

  “I decide what is best for my area, not you.”

  “You are not worthy, and you will never speak for me again.”

  “I am your Earl! You helped my rise.”

  “The gods don’t need help to rise, they are!” Randr attacked, three more leaving the table behind him to prevent him from attacking his Earl.

  Elakdon managed to stop himself from gaping. The Guard Lords remained passive, watching as Randr now battled three of his own. The Earl went for his sword, Gunhild and Trygve getting up, too.

  “Stop!” Elakdon shouted. Guard Lords rushed in and broke up the fight, leaving Randr standing alone, seething at his now disarmed Earl.

  “You dare betray the vow you gave your Earl?” Knud asked.

  “You betrayed the gods when you took down the Odin statue, removed Mjolnir from around your neck, and replaced it with a cross. But you do not shave as they ask. You are a turncoat, and no god will hold me to a vow to someone who does not keep theirs!”

  Trygve stepped back. He then looked at Elakdon. “I didn’t know, I swear!”

  “I believe you.”

  “I challenge you to a battle for honor,” Earl Knud said to Randr. “Let us see whose god is the strongest.”

  “With great pleasure, Christian, and when you are left uncollected by the Valkir, and no gate to your Heaven opens, I will at least hope the Hell your new god speaks of has a place for you to burn as that will be fitting for a man who speaks lies and mocks his own by betrayal.”

  Apparently, Randr knew a lot more about the new God’s faith than Elakdon, since he knew the differences between the afterlife promised. But did the Earl’s god honor a battle of honor? Would a god who didn’t value honor and only craved total submission even care?

  “Clear the area out back!” Elakdon said.

  “Yes, Nol!” Foldon sprinted from the hall.

  “Find your sword, Randr,” the Earl said.

  The Guard Lords began herding the Earls’ followers out the doors, yet Gunhild turned to face Elakdon. “I do not share his views. Trygve has earlier expressed that your people did not live together easily, but he has since told of the rise of a respectful King. I hope Earl Knud’s actions will not tarnish my credibility for having arrived at the same time as him.”

  “Would that be the beliefs of a respectful King?” Elakdon asked.

  She smiled, shaking her head.

  “Then fear not, shieldmaiden. We shall watch their battle together.”

  They left the Hall, Guards closing a ring around the three Royals and keeping everyone else outside the ring as they went.

  Earl Knud stood in one end, Randr on the other, both armed heavily.

  “His shield,” Foldon said, pointing.

  Elakdon looked closer at Randr’s shield, and other than bearing the mark of his Earl, it held a Cubi mark: Cubs of the gods—their Norse mythology name.

  “Two enter to battle for honor. Death is not required for a win, but the one left standing will be allowed to leave here unharmed by anyone!” Elakdon shouted. He then looked directly at Earl Knud. “But you will have to run from here and pray I or any Cubus of my lands never crosses path with you again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Nol!” the Cubi shouted.

  “I understand,” Knud said arrogantly, then turned to look at Randr. “But I don’t understand you.” He pointed at Randr with his sword. “You have always been too ugly to have been chosen by any of the ones you hold so dear, yet you betray your loyalty to your oldest friend to defend them.”

  “What physical pleasure I was never given takes nothing away from my love to the gods. You abandoning the gods takes away any ground for me to honor loyalties you have already tossed aside like a coward in return for power!”

  Elakdon looked at the man defe
nding them, and he really wasn’t a handsome man. He was tall for the average Viking, sure, and his gait and arms showed a man of physical strength. But his facial features were not any a Cubus would have sought out unless hunger left them with no other choice.

  “And that is why you will never become Earl. You strive for nothing.”

  “You are half right, but what I strive for is not something to be bargained. I will stand for what is right even if I stand alone. You never possessed the character to do that, thus you fall for anything, leaving your own honor behind in shambles! You say I helped you to power. You’re right. You stood on my shoulders, and now they’re gone.”

  “You will be nothing to this King once I’m done with you. Nothing but another dead human too ugly to be in the bed of his people.”

  Elakdon felt rage stir in the center of his body. Yes, Randr was definitely not a man who could make his cock jump in excitement, but his personal honor was one Elakdon admired greatly. He wondered if it was the Royal in him that could not place sexual need alongside with what earned Randr his utmost respect. But a coward was never to speak for him. He didn’t get to tell him off, though.

  “Odin! Watch me now!” Randr shouted and raised his sword. “Remember I stand fearless!”

  “Let us see your gods against mine.” Knud kissed the cross around his neck and tucked it under his chainmail. Then he attacked, and the sounds of steel against wood was deafening compared to the battles the Younglings had had in order to gain the respect of the Guards to be singled out.

  What unfolded was a battle for honor, possibly death, that neither man would stand down from. Swords met metal or wood, and their cries from anger and determination easily drowned out the shouts from those witnessing their fight.

  Elakdon remained quiet, watching only Randr. His shield cracked, and he lost his footing, Elakdon gasping as it wobbled in a vertical role to land at his feet. Was that a sign? That the shield that proudly bore his people’s mark would lie shattered at his feet?

  Rage built further in Elakdon as he watched Randr continue his fight, armed with sword and an axe.

  The Earl’s shield was next to give way under the onslaught of Randr’s axe, and the Earl cast it aside, grabbed a blade from his belt, and defended himself against Randr’s advance.