by Jada Turner
Some time had past before the woman finally noticed Aife standing there. She was around Aife's height, wearing a brown dress and blue apron bejewelled with multiple necklaces and broaches. Tight braids kept her waist length blonde hair under control. She gestured to Erik and said something in the strange language that Aife could not understand. He stood up, a bit surprised.
"I wasn't expecting you to be up for some time," he admitted, "this is Brynhildr and her husband Torstein. They were just here for a visit."
Brynhildr nodded, and took Aife's hand. She said something in her language. Aife didn't know the words, but from her expression she seemed to be kind. Her and Torstein left them alone together moment later.
"What did she say?" she asked Erik.
He smiled, "That she wishes you joy."
Aife got the sense that that wasn't the full translation of what she had said, but she was forced to accept it. After having slept on things, she had some misgivings about staying here more than a few days. After all, she had been told for years how dangerous these Northmen were, and Erik had taken her in the middle of the night while his people raided the village. Her father must have been worried sick about her, if he had even survived the attack. Not to mention how upset Seamus and his father might be. Aife was supposed to be her villages payment to the lord in exchange for food for the winter. If she didn't get back, her village might starve! Her happiness meant nothing next to that possibility.
Erik didn't seem to notice her sudden doubts, instead he smiled at her. "I have something I'd like to show you today. Would you like to go on a ride with me?"
She didn't see any reason not to. Perhaps it would give her time to figure out a gentle way to break her change of heart to Erik. Surely he would understand. There was no way she could stay in good conscience.
He took her delicate hand in his and led her out of the house to the horses. As it was last night, it was effortless for him to place her atop a silver mare. He quickly mounted his own horse and started them off towards the nearby hills. Sunlight shone through the clouds, and the normally violent winds had been subdued to a gentle cool breeze. Riding side by side with Erik, she found herself smiling for the first time in what had seemed like forever.
After about an hour, they reached the summit of a large hill at the base of a mountain. Waves crashed against the rocks below, spraying foam up the peaks and refreshing mist into the air. Erik dismounted and helped her off her horse. She noticed that he was giving her the same passionate look that he had been when she first arrived in his home.
"This is one of my favourite places, just to sit and think. Do you like it?"
"It actually reminds me a bit of home," she admitted. "But, listen, Erik. I'm happy for everything you've done for me. I really am. But I have to get back to the village. If I don't marry Seamus, my people will suffer. It's not what I want, at all. I don't have a choice though!" Tears welled up in her eyes. The thought of returning filled her with absolute dread, but she couldn't think of any other options. Sheer frustration and sadness overwhelmed her.
Erik touched a finger to her cheek, wiping away her tears. "Aife, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. You're so utterly beautiful," he gazed deep into her eyes, "when I saw you in that room, with the moon and firelight in your hair, I thought I was seeing the goddess Freyja herself."
Aife felt heat rushing up to her cheeks, Erik continued,
"I didn't want to see you harmed by anyone, so that's why I took you with me. I wanted to keep you safe, little bird, and I still do. You will always be free to do as you wish, and like I said, if you want to leave, I will not stop you. But it will absolutely break my heart to see you do something that will only make you sad." He stroked her cheek with his coarse hand and ran his fingers through her crimson curls.
Suddenly it was like he couldn't contain his urges anymore. He wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her close against him and pressed his lips against hers. Aife had never been kissed before in her life. At first she struggled against him, but the feeling of his strong arms holding her, the warmth him, the beating of his heart, it all caused her to utterly give in to his embrace. Warmth like she had never felt before began to course through her as she returned his passions, and a hunger for him began to awaken deep inside of her. Feeling her reciprocate his affections, Erik allowed himself to take even more liberties with her. He laid her down in the grass, positioning himself on top of her. No one was around for at least a few miles, but a twinge of excitement at the possibility of being caught made things even more sensual for Aife.
He broke from the kiss for air, panting he asked, "Have you ever done this before?"
She shook her head, wanting him to stop talking and keep kissing her with the same intensity.
"I'll be gentle with you then," he grabbed her thigh and brought it up over his hip, moving her gown out of the way. He took his fingers and brushed them over the inside of her legs, stopping gently to gently massage in between them.
Pleasure like Aife has never felt before in her life shot through her body, and she gasped. Erik smiled devilishly and started to apply a bit more pressure, his fingers moving in circles. She could barely contain herself anymore and started to moan. The heat and pleasure from in between her legs was more intense than anything else she had ever felt. She started to pull against Erik's clothes, begging him to take them off. He obliged her, removing his shirt and tunic in a flash. The sun gleamed off his muscled torso, and it just made Aife even more excited.
Erik cupped her perky breasts in his hands as he leaned back in for another kiss. Aife moaned as he slid his tongue into her mouth. His hands got busy at undoing the ties of her dress, and before she knew it he was tossing it aside. At first she was cold, and her nipples began to harden. Erik seemed to greatly enjoy that, and placed her hands on his trousers, beckoning her to undo them. She obliged, and marvelled at him. It astonished her how at once a man could be as dark, and strong, and as terrible as a barbarian yet so sweet and tender when exposed to the light of day.
He stared at her, and caressed her body up and down before finally joining them. It hurt at first, but they both were soon consumed by one other. Musky perfume overwhelmed her nostrils, and the heat of the midday sun beat down on them from above. She had never felt warmth, love, and passion quite like this. They tumbled through the grass together, their moans a kind of music. Soon she was moaning louder than she ever had, her legs and body shaking and tumbling with the sensations. Erik moaned too, and when he exited her his load dripped out of her.
Panting, he laid next to her in the grass, pulling her close again for another deep, loving kiss, caressing a hand down from her shoulder, to her waist, finally stopping at her hip.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, concerned.
"No," she smiled at him, "that was something else."
They lay there together in the grass for what seemed like hours, though it really couldn't have been more than half an hour. Finally, they rose and gathered their clothing up. The ride back to Erik's home was done in a comfortable silence, and she wanted badly to continue touching him. Night was starting to fall by the time they made it back. Erik tried to prepare a meal for them, but they wound up attacking each other again, this time Erik completely tore her dress off of her. He carried her to his room, and laid her down on his large bed. Their night was filled with warmth, and a different kind of passion as they kissed and stared into one others eyes. It seemed as though they enjoyed one other in every position known to man and then some.
Aife was starting to feel, deep inside, for Erik as she should have felt for Seamus. She wasn't sure whether or not she ought to feel guilty about that. She had been promised to Seamus, and by feeling this way and making love to Erik, she was breaking that promise. The idea that she should value her own happiness over the duty she had to her people was as foreign to her as Erik was. And what if this was just lust and Erik didn't really want her for the long term? It was too early to tell, but if
he didn't want her she would have defiled herself for nothing. It felt better to put those thoughts out of her mind and simply enjoy the time that she currently had with him.
CHAPTER 3
Morning felt like a fresh start to Aife. She woke alone, with a fresh northern dress laid out for her on the bed. The dress itself was ivory, with a red apron. Interestingly, no necklaces or jewels accompanied it save for two broaches depicting little golden sparrows. It fit well enough, though it was not tailored to her the same way her other dress had been.
She found Erik waiting for her just outside the house. He was dressed in heavy furs with a long cloak about him. Off in the distance, Aife could hear the sounds of the entire village gathering for some kind of event.
"I know it's not your custom, but would you like to come to the Thing with me?"
"What's the Thing?" she inquired of him.
"It's a gathering of the tribe. All free men and women attend."
"But, I'm not part of the tribe, Erik."
He simply smiled and kissed her hand, gesturing for her to follow him. As they walked together, arm in arm, she took the chance to take in the sights that Erik's village had to offer. She found that, aside from the style in which the northmen build their houses and their strange religion, that they lived not too dissimilar from she had in her home village. Various carvings of deities that she saw adorning the outside of some homes fascinated her. All was foreign and yet familiar, as though the world had been made new. Erik squeezed her hand as they grew closer to the center of the town.
Two men stood in the middle of the gathered crowds. One was dressed more finely than the highest of lords. Next to him stood a man clad much more simply, in a rough spun tunic wearing multiple medallions; the most prominent of which was in the shape of a large hammer. The high lord raised his hand to quiet the masses and began to speak.
Aife could not understand, but the occasional cheers of the people led her to believe that nothing particularly bad was being said. She decided that should she stay, she would most certainly have to learn this language just as Erik had taken the time to learn Gaelic. Soon she began to hear the lord say "Erik" occasionally in his monologue.
"What's going on?" she asked him.
"He is saying that the people should celebrate me finding such a beautiful woman as a wife. He's been misinformed, I think," Erik sighed, as though he didn't like what was was saying. As though he wanted desperately for things to be different. Memories of an entirely different life flashed behind his eyes.
"I've been on my own for a very long time," he wasn't looking at Aife, "there was another once, a long time ago. She tried to make the journey with me from Norway, but the sea didn't agree with our plans and the sickness took her. Over the days and the weeks, she got worse and worse until finally she died. There was no way to give her a real burial or a cremation while at sea, so I had to wrap her in a shroud and give her to the waters. When they swallowed her, I thought I could never care for anyone again. Until I met you."
Aife felt a great compassion for him. The idea of deeply loving a woman only to loose her at sea was so distressing to her, and reminded her of the tale of Cliodhna. A fairy woman loved deeply by a mortal man, but swept away by the music of the ocean to become the foams of the sea. She relayed the tale to Erik. His face hardened,
"It was a long time ago, little bird. I'm grateful she joined her ancestors, but I want to move on with my life rather than have it poisoned by her ghost and her memory. I want to love freely again."
Horses cried out of the blue, causing her, Erik, and the entire tribe to turn and look in the direction from which it came. Armoured knights rode forth into the villager, brandishing spears and swords. Leading the pack was no knight, but a skinny man with straw hair in chainmail bearing the crest and standard of his father. Seamus took in the sight he saw before him, and the metal of the men he was willing to take on. He looked like a man who had no idea what he had gotten himself into.
Aife pulled closer to Erik. Part of her had felt a desire to go back, but only out of obligation. She didn't love Seamus, not in the way she had begun to feel for Erik. All the same, she didn't want to see Seamus harmed or killed. He could still find himself a nice wife, just so long as it wasn't her.
Seamus pulled his horse to a stop in front of the gathering. "I've come here for my bride. Barbarians took her from me on the eve before we were to be wed. She has hair kissed by fire and is the greatest beauty in all the world. I have taken my host from village to village in search of her. Whoever returns my bride to me shall be rewarded handsomely!"
Many of the men who had been with Erik on the night of the raid clutched their axes and swords, preparing for a fight to start. Erik had no such designs. He walked out of the crowd to face Seamus himself.
"I'm a man of honour, and I will not hide from the son of a Scottish lord," he announced with pride. "I partook in the raid on your village, yes. When I saw Aife's great beauty, I was compelled to protect her, and also take her for myself. I would have her be my wife if that was her wish, though unlike you I shall never force that on her. Regardless, I have grown to love her. Should she wish to go with you, she may. Though should she wish to stay, I would give my life to ensure that she could."
Seamus drew his sword, and his voice cracked as he spoke, "Barbarian! You don't understand our ways. Marriage is not a choice that we make, it's something that must be done for the good of our families. I'm not afraid of you, I will fight to perserve her honour and the honour of my house." He dismounted his horse and strode towards Erik.
"You are brave, I'll give you that," Erik acknowledged. He turned to Aife, "is it your wish to return with this man, little bird?"
She didn't want anyone to be hurt, but it was the moment of truth, "No, I don't want to go back. I want to be free to make my own fate."
Erik nodded, "Very well," he drew his own sword and went to meet Seamus. "You can still choose to respect her wishes and leave."
"Her wishes and mine don't matter. Only honour does," Seamus yelled and went to strike Erik with his sword.
Erik blocked the blow as easily as a horse swats away a fly with its tail. Each strike from Seamus was deflected without effort by Erik, which only seemed to make him angrier. Seamus's strikes grew ever more ferocious and reckless, all while he yelled obscenities at Erik for stealing his bride and stripping the honour from his fathers proud name.
Erik parried away from a particularly vicious strike, but not quite in time. The sword bit into his unguarded flesh, spraying his blood across the ground. He cried in pain, clutching the shoulder where the sword had struck him. This made Seamus overconfident, and he went in again to strike. Erik dodged it and in a single motion drove his sword up through Seamus's belly, withdrawing cleanly. It didn't take very long for Seamus to die, but Aife cried all the same. In the confusion one of the banner men tried to grab her, tearing her dress and digging his nails into her skin. She had started bleeding before another man killed him. Knowing they were outmatched, and their young lord dead, the banner men turned tail and ran.
Panting and wincing from pain, Erik made his way back to Aife. The sight of her blood worried him. "I'm sorry you had to see that, little bird. Are you okay?"
"Did you mean what you said? About loving me?" she queried.
Erik took her face in his hands, and gave her a deep, impassioned kiss. "Every word, my little bird. I was willing to die so that you could choose any destiny you wanted."
Brynhildr saw to her minor wounds, while Erik went off to seek the services of the village healer. She didn't know quite what to make of what had just happened. Freedom. It was a concept and idea that she had always dreamed of truly possessing, yet now that she had it she didn't know what to do with it.
"I've not seen him so devoted to any one woman since his wife passed on to the next world," Brynhildr told her in extremely broken Gaelic as she began to braid her hair, "you bring out the better parts of him."
CHAPTER 4
> Aife had the entire night alone in Erik's home to mull over that. At times she cried for fear that his wound might kill him as hours passed without him coming home. She took in the scent of him from the furs of the bed, and their warmth only reminded her more of his tenderness and his love. Tears fell from her eyes until she simply couldn't cry anymore. Come morning, Brynhildr came for her.
"He wants to see you," she told her, "he won't stop asking for you."
Erik was sick from blood loss, but otherwise he was going to live. The arm would take quite some time to heal, however.
"Aife," he reached up to touch her face. She leaned down to accept it, leaning into his touch. His hand was cold from losing blood, but still retaining its vitality and regular strength.
Erik coughed, "I want to ask you something, Aife. No matter what you answer, I will always care for you and protect you. You'll always have a place in this village and in my home. Do you understand?"
She remained silent, anticipating only one question.
"Be my wife," he stated plainly and hopefully.
Moments passed as Aife processed that. She wanted to give an answer that allowed her to choose her own destinies. Yet, the idea of marrying a man like Erik filled her with joy. Where the idea of him would have once filled her with fear, whereas now it excited her. She wanted to learn of this new culture and live her life the way that she saw fit.
"I- I need to think," she stammered before hurrying off back to Erik's home and locking herself in the room that he had given her. She had wanted to say yes, with all of her heart. But, she had to be sure that she was marrying him out of love and not because of the excitement and novelty that he had shown her. Seamus was dead, and if her father was still alive he would have her married off to someone else for sure. Perhaps to the son of a lord, but perhaps not. She would have no choices in how she lived her life.