by Lady Keisha
“I said, perhaps you would rather live after all?”
Freya shrugged as she finished off her mouthful of bread. “I was hungry, that’s all. Besides, I doubt hunger will kill me before you do.” She took another greedy bite of the bread and the Highlander sighed.
“I’m not going to kill you. If I were going to kill you, don’t you think I would have done it back there and left you, rather than carrying you all this way?”
Freya shrugged again as she chewed the bread. “Well, I’d rather you kill me than sell me.” She spoke with her mouth full and crumbs spilled from her lips. The Highlander chuckled at the sight.
“I’m not going to kill you.” He was silent as he watched Freya destroy the bread in minutes. He offered her the rest of his. She took it hungrily and began to eat that too.
“Whether you are or not, I was simply saying that I would rather you did.”
The Highlander frowned. “Why are you so insistent on death?”
Freya swallowed her mouthful, and before taking another bite she shrugged. “What else is there? As a married woman I am damned to Hell if another man takes me. If you sell me I shall become another man’s woman.”
The Highlander scratched his head. “Do you really believe that God would damn you to Hell for a choice that you have no control over?”
Freya nodded as she handed back the rest of the Highlander’s bread. “It is the way of it.”
The Highlander leaned back against the wall and stared into the room in front of them. “My God would never do such a thing.”
Freya laughed derisively. “Your God is one who allows for the death and destruction as a means to an end.”
The Highlander seemed to think about this. “But isn’t yours just the same? Even when your battles are not fought on a battlefield, you are killed in other ways. He allows for this to happen.”
Freya was silent as she followed his gaze across the stone cottage floor. He was right. For the first time in her life, someone had said out loud what Freya had been afraid to think. Angus had been destroying her, slowly bleeding her of everything she had in order to get what he wanted.
“He has been killing me since the day we married.”
The Highlander glanced over at her without saying a word.
“Angus, I mean. My husband. Some days he makes me believe that death truly would be a better option than life.”
He listened, saying nothing.
“I have always been a good wife to him. I always believed that one day he would learn to love me and treat me as a wife should be treated…” She sighed loudly. “That day has never come, and every day since we married he has treated me worse than the day before. I suppose in a way, if what you are saying is true, that this is my punishment.” She paused. “I think, if that is the case, then I would much rather spend an eternity in damnation than another lifetime as Angus’s wife.”
Freya couldn’t believe that she had said something so blasphemous out loud, but it had felt so good to finally speak. She felt so much lighter for telling someone, anyone, what life was truly like as Angus’s wife.
“Perhaps there is something else out there? Something other than damnation or a lifetime of being his wife?” the Highlander suggested.
Freya looked at him for a long time in silence as she tried to understand what he was saying.
“Perhaps you were meant for something else…someone else…” he trailed off.
Chapter Four
The candle had burned down to darkness and the small house was silent aside from the sound of breathing. Freya lay back on the straw mattress as she stared in the direction of the table where the Highlander lay.
“What’s your name?” she asked through the darkness. When he didn’t answer she wondered if he might be asleep. Seconds later she heard his feet on the floor in front of the bed.
“Lorne.” He crouched down, his hands feeling for the edge of the mattress before he sat beside it. “You?”
“Freya.” Freya looked into the darkness where she expected his face would be.
“Freya, a pretty name.”
She could hear the smile on his lips and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you, it was my grandmother’s name.”
Lorne nodded. Freya reached up and pulled her thick hair to one side before lying her head back down. “Lorne?”
“Mmm?”
“Tell me more about your God?”
“What is there to tell?” He shrugged. “We are rewarded for our trials with the bounty that we receive.”
Freya shook her head. “But that bounty belonged to the people you took it from. That’s stealing.”
She sounded so innocent that Lorne had to smile. “It is the way of things. Only the strong survive and the strong are rewarded.”
Freya thought about this as she lay in the darkness. She had been weak all her life and never had she been rewarded. Certainly she had found a husband, but he was a husband who treated her no better than a savage would.
“Lorne?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you think that weak people can become strong?” She heard him shuffle himself around on the floor so that he was facing her completely.
“Why do you ask that?”
“All my life I have been a weak woman.” She paused. “A good wife, but a weak woman. I allow my husband to mock me and treat me as a slave. I have loved him the way any woman should, but I wish I could be stronger.”
Lorne crawled forward on to the mattress and in the darkness he searched for the outline of her body. “I believe anybody can become strong,” he whispered.
Freya lay still, feeling the weight of his body lying beside her.
“I’m afraid…” she whispered back with a sniffle. In the darkness the tears cut down her cheeks.
Lorne reached out his hand, searching for her face and when he found it he placed his palm against her cheek. Freya felt her body tense as he pulled her face gently towards him. Lorne leaned forward, his lips seeking hers, and when they found them he kissed her gently.
“Never be afraid of living bravely. It’s the people who live their lives in servitude that suffer.” He kissed her again. Freya found herself opening her lips to him, inviting him to tease her with his warm tongue. She could barely breathe as she felt his tongue brush against hers.
It had been so long since Angus had touched Freya with love that her head began to spin at the touch of Lorne’s kiss. Her breath came short as she reached her hand forward in the darkness and brushed his unshaven face with her hand. His touch was gentle despite the barbaric nature she had been led to believe was characteristic of his people. She felt his tongue slide between her lips, dancing with her own. He could taste him, the warmth of his breath and the salt on his lips. She wanted to taste more of him, to take everything he had to offer.
Lorne let his fingers slide down to her soft bare neck, but as he did Freya pulled away. She was panting with desire.
“Lorne, I am a married woman.”
“I will respect your desire, Freya, but your desire is telling me less of your marriage and more of your need to be treated gently.”
Freya felt her heart break, her chest grew heavy as she heard these words spoken out loud: “You should be treated gently, Freya.” He slid his hand down and let it rest on her covered breast. “Can I do that for you?”
She reached up and put her hand over his, pressing it harder and forcing the plumpness of her breast to fill his hand.
Freya could barely catch her breath as she sat upright and allowed Lorne to gently slip her night smock over her head. Her naked body shivered at the cooler night air. She lay back on the mattress and listened to the sounds of Lorne as he bared his own body to the night.
“Freya…” Lorne leaned down as he knelt beside her. His hand touching her soft naked stomach. “If we do this…” He straddled her gently in the darkness, his warm body covering hers. “If we do this you have to know that there is no punishment that awaits you. There i
s no wrath of God waiting for you. Just freedom.”
Freya felt the fullness of his member slide against her bare skin. Lorne leaned down and gently kissed her.
“I want freedom…” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I want freedom so very much.”
Lorne pressed his lips against hers and as he did he moved his hips to place himself between her thighs. Freya felt herself holding her breath as the thickness of his member pressed against her bareness.
“Mmm,” he hummed against her mouth softly as he gently pressed forward. The tip of his rod parting her lips, and sliding gently into her entrance.
“Ahh!” Freya gasped as she pulled out of the kiss. It had been so long since Angus had been inside of her that it almost felt as though she were a virgin again. She slid her hands up and pressed gently against his chest. The bare smoothness of his skin was so soft, so starkly different to Angus’s hairy barrel chest.
Lorne thrust forward slowly, the length of his member sliding inside Freya as she breathed softly and slowly. “Ahh…” With each moan she gave Lorne slowed, afraid that he would hurt her, break her. “I want you, Lorne,” she whispered to him as her hands slid up his chest and caressed the sides of his unshaven face.
“Just breathe…” Lorne whispered as he slid the rest of his shaft inside her. When he was fully entered into her wetness, Lorne stilled and looked down at her in the darkness. “Does it feel good?” he whispered, “to be free?”
Freya nodded, a smile creeping over her lips. “Oh, yes.”
Her voice now filled with need, Lorne slid himself back until his tip was almost completely released from her. Leaning down so that his forehead touched hers, he thrust forward a little more forcefully than last time.
“Ahh!” Freya could feel her body responding to his like she had never experienced before. She could feel her wetness surrounding him and she could hear it in the darkness. “Please, give it all to me. Give me my freedom!”
She gasped as Lorne began to thrust faster and then suddenly she cried out. “OHH!” Her body tensed and she grasped at Lorne’s shoulders in desperation. “OHH!” she cried again as she clung to him for dear life. And then it came, the rush of freedom. Every muscle in Freya’s body began to relax, her wetness throbbed around Lorne and she could hardly breathe.
“Are you okay?” Lorne leaned down in the darkness, his lips almost touching hers.
Freya nodded. “What was that?”
She could feel Lorne smiling. “That? That was your freedom.”
“Angus never ever made me feel like that…”
Lorne kissed her lips gently. “Then Angus is a foolish man.”
Lorne pulled back slowly before sinking his member deep inside Freya again. Freya licked her lips hungrily. Her first taste of an orgasm had left her hungry for more and her fingers pressed against his shoulders with each thrust.
“Mmm.” Freya had never felt so free before in her life as she felt the full length of Lorne sink back in to her. As she hummed for more, Lorne thrust rhythmically, hungry to give her everything that she deserved to experience. As he slid into her soft pink he could feel his own body stiffen.
“Oh, Freya…” He thrust faster, deeper. “Oh….oh….”
Suddenly Freya could feel his entire being harden under her touch and with a throb she watched his body unfold. The pulsing of his member inside her left her feeling warm inside and he listened hungrily to his moans.
“Mmm, yes…” Freya sighed contentedly as Lorne’s body fell lightly on top of her. The warmth of every inch of his body on top of hers made her smile. “Thank you,” she whispered quietly in his ear. She heard him laugh breathlessly.
“Thank you…”
Chapter Five
It was the sunlight that awoke Freya the next morning. She opened her eyes slowly, afraid that last night had been no more than a dream but when she looked beside her she saw Lorne. Reaching her hand across, she brushed her fingers against his bare chest. He stirred but did not waken. Freya glanced down at the entirety of his naked body, her eyes resting on his thick member. He certainly looked nothing like Angus. Lorne had a tight and sculpted body and his rod was so thick and long compared to Angus’s. She licked her lips as she thought of last night.
Lorne stretched his arms upward and yawned as he opened his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he looked over at Freya.
“We should dress and get moving,” he said flatly.
Freya frowned as Lorne stood up and began fishing through his clothes. She watched him without moving. “You should dress,” he said, glancing at her as he dressed himself. Freya shook her head. “You have to, we have to move, it’s already daylight.”
Freya shook her head again and this time tears welled in her eyes. “No.”
Lorne picked up her night smock and threw it next to her. “You have to. We have to hurry.”
The tears spilled down her face as Freya begrudgingly stood and dressed herself. She couldn’t believe that she had allowed herself to fall for such an awful trick. She had allowed a barbarian to make love to her as only her husband should, and worse, he had convinced her that it would be okay.
Freya stood by the door of the small house with her arms crossed and her lips pouted. She was angry with herself, but most of all she was angry with Lorne. How could he have said such things only to still take her to be bid on by other men the next morning?
“Can you walk?” Lorne asked as he came to the door and stood beside her.
“I can walk fine.” Freya said coldly.
Lorne opened the front door. “Then let’s start moving.”
It wasn’t long before Freya was regretting volunteering to walk. Her journey yesterday may have been a bumpy one, but at least her feet weren’t killing her. She had only slipped on a pair of leather sandals before Lorne had taken her from her home and they barely protected her feet from the tough terrain.
“You have to keep up.” Lorne looked back at Freya as he marched ahead. Freya had no intention of picking up her speed. She had no intention of doing anything that would make Lorne’s life easier.
By midday Lorne had chastised Freya more times for being slow than she cared to recount. She was tired, hungry and, most of all, angry. Lorne came to a stop on top of a large hill and waited for Freya to catch up.
“We will rest for a few minutes here, but we have to keep moving so we can’t stop long.” Lorne took out his flask and offered it to Freya. She took it and greedily guzzled down as much as she could.
“Why are you in such a hurry? Afraid that all the highest bidders will be gone?” Freya shoved the flask back at Lorne.
He frowned. “What?”
“You heard me,” Freya said coldly.
“I heard you, but I didn’t understand…you think that I am still taking you to be sold?”
Freya rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Lorne. I know that you got what you wanted. I know that I’m a naïve woman who fell for your talk about freedom.” She stared at him accusingly.
For a moment Lorne looked angry and then his face relaxed and he began to laugh. Still laughing, he walked over to Freya and wrapped his arms around her.
“Freya,” he stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not taking you to be sold, I’m taking you to safety.” Freya frowned. “My clan, they moved overnight. We stopped because I was tired from carrying you but the place that we stopped was only an emergency home. It was there for the wounded, for those in need of shelter after the attack on your village. Because we stayed there we are far behind the rest of the clan and that means that we have no protection from the vengeance that will come. I don’t want you to suffer at the hands of your own people.”
Freya still wasn’t sure that she believed him. “My own people would not kill me,” she retorted.
“They already had,” Lorne said sadly, his hands slipping off Freya’s shoulders. He stared out from the top of the hill to the mountains ahead.
Freya grabbed his arm. “Just tell me
one thing.” Lorne looked to her. “Tell me that it was real?”
He smiled gently before sliding his hand behind her head and pulling her close. His lips touched hers softly, and as he pulled away he nodded. “It doesn’t get any more real than that.”
Freya looked out over the mountains ahead. “Is that where we are going?”
Lorne nodded his head. “It’s a long trek but if we want to make it to safety we have to keep going for as long as we can.”
Freya nodded and began to walk again. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter Six
It was fourteen days and nights of daytime travel before Lorne and Freya arrived at Lorne’s village. They were welcomed with cheers and many smiling faces. Lorne relished in the attention of his people, but Freya was too distracted to celebrate. The journey had left her tired and she felt sick to her stomach.
“Lorne?” She tugged on his sleeve. He turned around from the crowd and looked at her, but as he did she crumpled to a heap on the ground.
Sweeping her up in his arms Lorne took her to his home where he laid her on a mattress made of straw. When Freya finally came to she found Lorne standing over her wringing his hands.
“Stay still. Don’t move. I have sent for the doctor, but you must rest.”
Freya smiled at him gently. “I’m just tired, it has been a long journey.”
Lorne looked towards the door as he anxiously awaited the doctor’s arrival. “We will let the doctor be the judge of that.”
Freya sighed and gently sat herself up in bed. As her fingers crunched into the straw mattress, she looked at Lorne with a smile.
“Do you remember the last time we slept on a straw mattress?”
Lorne turned to her and smiled, he couldn’t help himself. “Perhaps you are feeling a little better…but still, there will be no more of that until the doctor takes a look at you.”
Freya sighed heavily. “I am fine. I promise you I am fine, but if seeing the doctor is what it takes to get a taste of that kind of freedom again…then I’ll do it.”
Just as she finished speaking, the doctor arrived at the open door. He was a shorter man than Lorne and he had a full grey beard and long grey hair that matched.