Siren Slave

by Aurora Styles

  He glared at Enbarr, who gave his mane a toss and left them in a flurry of autumn leaves and blossoms, leaving Siegfried no chance to question why he would ever trust Freya. She was touching her wrists, as if trying to feel the now-invisible manacles. He didn’t want her to hear his thoughts like the horse did. He shouldn’t want to hear hers, yet his distrust of people made him want to know.

  “I guess there is no more privacy,” Freya murmured.

  “You have no privacy,” Siegfried said, lifting her chin so she met his gaze. “You deserve no less for standing aside as others’ was taken away.”

  He walked around her, inspecting her for a long moment before unlocking the collar. She stood at attention, arms folded behind her back. The instant a drop of drizzle fell upon her nose, she winced.

  Siegfried concentrated on Freya, thought about those green bonds of magic. The rain was beginning to pick up. Of course, she was disturbed by what Enbarr had told her. Something that felt like electricity stirred within him, and the subtlest hint of fear mingled with uncertainty.

  No. When he opened his eyes, only now realizing he’d closed them, Freya was standing still as a statue. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, Master,” she said, not moving. “I can’t use any magic at all. And I can’t move. Are you that afraid of me?”

  “No. I’m not afraid of you. I was too forceful. Maybe I don’t need to use that much effort.”

  “Probably not much at all.” She stretched, and he could see the outlines of her nipple piercings against the thin fabric of the toga.

  “I have to do it again,” he murmured.

  “What? Oh. Even numbers.”

  “Do not say a word to anyone about the numbers.”

  “I haven’t. It seemed like one of those things you wouldn’t want people to know,” she said. “Go ahead.”

  “I’m sorry, this number obsession, the constant counting of everything… There were twenty-one boards in our hut last night. Three windows.” Why was he telling her this? “This adds to twenty-four.”

  “I’m hardly one to judge anyone on being normal,” she said, digging the toe of her sandal into a rock. “Besides, I cut your food into eight bites to negate any possible bad numbers you may have found.” She spoke as if that was perfectly reasonable, not the least bit of amusement or derision in her voice or face.

  Siegfried had never done this before, but he did it then, because he was the first not to look at him strangely for his number fixation. He hugged her. Her small fingers stroked his hair, tenderly. She wasn’t stiff, but soft, welcoming in his arms, even though she shivered.

  “Do you want me to use one of my powers again? Or maybe you want to try to shift me into mermaid form?” she asked after he’d released her.

  “Aye.”

  She gave her mane a shake and stepped into the chill water. She stumbled, but fortunately, she landed on her rump on a smooth rock. He thought about the mermaid on the front of his ship, not certain what he ought to think about.

  Freya was suddenly ensconced in a purple glow. The light vanished as quickly as it appeared, and he could hardly believe what was before him.

  In a sultry voice, a lock of hair hanging between her eyes, she said, “Do you want your mermaid’s magic mouth?”

  He choked as he waded into the river and lifted her from the rock, into his arms, his hands exploring the frilled fin where her human flesh met her tail. Their mouths melded. She shivered, and he pulled her closer to keep her warm. She was extraordinary.

  She smiled. “Well, I’ve never been accused of being ordinary.”

  Had he spoken aloud?

  When he carried her deeper into the water, she said, “Hold me around my waist, tight. I’m going to move fast. Not Enbarr-fast, but fast enough. This is my favorite power, you know.”

  “A mermaid…” He set her gently in the water then circled behind her, grabbing her breasts. “Are you certain I’ll be able to breathe?”

  “It’s what Hedwig said.” She dove beneath the waves, the water around them growing warm. “You breathing?”

  “Aye.” Talking underwater was a strange sensation. No water rushed in to fill his lungs. Their words were not muffled.

  He had never been able to be underwater so long and really look at it all—the algae covering the smooth stones, the way the sunlight glimmered off the bodies of small fish. She did move swiftly, the muscles of her tail contracting under his thighs. He pushed the cloud of her hair from his face, tucking it between them.

  He focused on that bond again, wondering how she felt about this control he had over her. Intimidation, aye. Surprise, definitely. And lust. Was he ruining her with his strange desires already?

  The silence stretched for what could have been some length of time. Siegfried marveled at this new world to which he was now granted access, this world he’d spent most of his life just above.

  “I’m thinking about who could be behind what happened in Folkvang. There have been rumors,” Freya said, “about Odilia practicing dark magic, that she’s some sort of sorceress. It makes sense if she’s dealing with the fey. If all gods and goddesses are just fey, that leaves us with a lot of options. Or not so many if they’re known by different names to different people. I’ve been thinking about all that Chiron taught me… I’d always wondered why he focused so much on myth.”

  “Did you conclude anything?” Chiron. Siegfriend recalled the name of the tutor Freya had mentioned.

  “Anyone who Hecate hurt might be worried that I’ll use Oblivion—that soul-destroying magic. As far as Woden, most people like him. All that battle glory and such… Balder would be an obvious suspect if I’m an heir to Asgard, too. But I can’t imagine him sending assassins after me. The other is Woden’s brother. Loki.”

  The Trickster. Siegfried remembered some of the perverse tales.

  “I don’t know much about Loki,” Freya said. “I found a chapter on him once, and Chiron took the tome from me and tore out the pages. Those ended up in the fire, something about it not being fitting literature for a young lady.”

  Siegfried had not been so lucky to have someone take the tome away from him. “Odilia had to eliminate you, no matter what you said to Pompey. No matter who is involved.”

  “That’s true. Odilia always said I was difficult. Well, a lot worse than difficult. She said I had a problem with rules, which is just impossible. I just disregarded them and they weren’t a problem.”

  “Freya, how can you say that? You were in agreement about everything the Romans do.”

  “I had to break lots of rules to be permitted to spend so much time in the barracks.”

  “You are very contradictory. Did it never occur to you that your behavior could be considered suspicious? It’s out of the ordinary, and that’s being kind and without even considering your fey powers. I don’t know what to make of you.”

  “Do you have a woman you’re seeing?” Freya blurted. He was surprised by the question, then understood why she asked. “Ulf said you didn’t, but I don’t know if I believe it. I’m wondering if I’m going to meet her and if she’s going to hate me.”

  “What kind of man do you think I am? No. I have no woman or women. There isn’t room in my life for one.”

  “But yet here I am.”

  “Circumstances have given me you. You were right about your being useful. You also suffer no delusions about me being some sort of larger-than-life hero nor do you have any kind of infatuation with me. You’ll be with me, because you can be without getting yourself killed. Don’t think I’m going to leave you behind and give you a reprieve. No, you’ll be in my bed or using your powers for me. A long punishment for you, Freya, for your crimes against your people.” He squeezed one of her breasts. How he was going to enjoy punishing her. He grew hard at the thought. “And I am going to continue your training.”

  “Training?” She sounded intrigued.

  “Aye. What do you think I’ve been doing, telling you how to stand and kneel? There ar
e certain ways things must be done, certain things I expect of you. You’re doing well enough, but there are a few lessons you will need. We’ll start with you serving my drinks and meals. I will not ask you to prepare them.”

  ****

  Freya learned more about this when they stopped for a meal on the river banks. They situated themselves several yards from the water, amid a stand of pines. The meal was simple fare, consisting of bread and cheese. When she knelt to find the food, she bent over the way he’d told her, not bending her knees, bending straight from the waist. She peered over her shoulder to see if he was checking out her ass, which was the obvious point of bending this way. He was.

  “Good, you remembered.” Yes. His gaze was firmly riveted to her backside, as he stood with his legs slightly apart, arms folded across his chest. “While I eat, you’ll kneel with your legs spread wide. You may fold your arms behind your neck or back, and I will feed you from my plate.” He sat down upon a moss-covered boulder.

  Freya swallowed, knowing her face was red. She was bare now, hadn’t bothered to dress after transforming to her human form. He was going to hand feed her?

  “I want your head up and to see your face,” Siegfried said. “Kneel for me like I told you.”

  Freya’s breath shuddered in her chest as she adjusted her position, keeping her arms at the small of her back. Again, she was overwhelmed, sensations coursing through her as she was exposed to his view. He openly appraised her and gave her a small bite of food.

  She took the pieces of bread and cheese from his fingers with her teeth. For the next bite, he made her strain upward, an amused expression on his face as she struggled to reach the food. When he tipped his wineskin to her lips, she managed to spill a few drops on her breasts. He bent to kiss them away, gently lapping the crimson droplets from her nipples. She moaned, pressing her breasts to his mouth.

  “So eager, so lusty,” he said with a soft chuckle as he turned a nipple ring in his fingers. She wobbled, hoping he’d sate her.

  He gave her an appraising nod. “Etainen would not have been good for you. I am pleased, Freya, very pleased. You are an exquisite little slave, so needy and eager. I’d satisfy more of your curiosity and satisfy you, as well, but we must continue. There is also something to be said for anticipation.”

  “That’s why you locked me again, isn’t it?” She glanced down at her piercing.

  “Aye. You catch on well.” He kissed her again, slowly but deeply. She knew he was trying to torment her, and she enjoyed it so.

  “I’m sorry, Freya,” he said. “That I didn’t get to you sooner, before the Druids did what they did.”

  “It’s my fault, too. Before they captured me with human metal, I could’ve killed them with the Blood Call, but I hesitated. I hated to use that and I didn’t want to become sick.”

  “Don’t hesitate next time.” A pause. “I am sorry, too, if I am being harsh with you, putting you through all these lovely trials.”

  The heat in her cheeks flamed high. “You consider me part of what you’ve been fighting against. I’m still an enemy to you. Besides, you’re also doing this because you enjoy it.” When he just stared, she added, “It is very obvious. This is my punishment and your reward. I don’t know much of what happened to you in Rome, not unless you decide to tell me, but I’m sure they humiliated you. My people sent people like you to Rome.”

  Siegfried looked away, his jaw set. “You’ve been awfully quiet about your opinions, Freya, if that is the conclusion you’ve drawn. I told you to speak your thoughts.”

  “That isn’t all my conclusion, Master. You say it’s punishment for me, but that’s not all. You enjoy this, more than revenge. There isn’t anger in you when you touch me. I don’t think those people in Rome were tender. Perhaps all the scars gave me the clue.”

  He rose and stepped behind her, his breath hot on her cheek. “I ask you again. Are you afraid?”

  “Afraid, no. Overwhelmed, yes.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was the gloaming when they were next on land. Freya was tired from her long swim, her thoughts awash in this new feeling of belonging completely to Siegfried. She didn’t know what to expect. This was no lovers’ game to him. Sometimes, it seemed as if he’d try to hold back or feel guilty, but his darker desires would overcome that. It was not as if she minded. She wanted him to be free with her.

  “Stop,” Siegfried commanded as she stood underneath the shadows of the bright leaves, the rose-hued light lacing through the branches. She had not donned her clothing again, choosing instead to wait for his command.

  She waited for him, arms behind her back, legs spread apart. He draped the end of her leash over a bough. He knelt beside her, examining her knee. It was almost healed now, probably Enbarr’s magic.

  “I will inspect you from time to time, ensuring you’ve no bodily harm.” He turned his attention then toward her breasts, lifting them, weighing them in his hot, rough palms. She fought the urge to lean into his touch, sag against him.

  His deft fingers turned the rings in her nipples, as if he’d been worried he might have caused her some damage. Then, he dropped down to one knee before her, his head bowed, the sun-kissed strands of his locks hiding his face. A quick turning of a pin in the lock between her legs and he looked up at her again. “Use your fingers to open yourself for me. Tilt your hips forward.”

  Freya groaned, sighing at the feel of her own fingers on her tormented flesh. She struggled for balance as she obeyed, trying not to think of where he was staring.

  “Are you sore?” he asked, lightly running his finger along her folds.

  “N-no, Master.” It was difficult to speak.

  “Good. Tell me if I ever hurt you.” When he rose, he kissed her eyelids again. “Now, dress and walk beside me.” He held her leash again but didn’t tug. She stayed close. He did not walk fast, instead watching as she walked. He admonished her to lift her knees higher or keep her arms folded tighter behind her back. But he never once told her to hurry.

  They made one brief stop before they arrived at the rebel camp, and that was so Freya could don clothing.

  Their arrival in the rebel camp was heralded with many greetings and a flurry of activity, as they were given hot broth to drink and situated in a broad and thoroughly patched leather tent. Freya much preferred the wooden or stone sorts of buildings, especially considering the tent leaked. Once they’d placed their sack of belongings within their quarters and were led to a great bonfire, she pondered the quality of their accommodations instead of the curious stares she received.

  The rebels were heavily armed and large in number, painted with bright blue war paints and carrying Roman weapons. There were so many, teamed now with other tribes. She wouldn’t even attempt guessing how many there were; numbers had always been difficult for her. She wanted to cheer for them trying to take back Gaul from Rome, but their scowls and glares made it difficult. It made her angry that she’d done nothing and they were furious with her. No, she had done something. She recognized some of these same people from the Folkvang dungeons. She’d freed them.

  Siegfried stroked her arm, as if willing her not to lose her temper. His touch did wonders. That was really all he had to do. “Freya, I will not have you fetch me my food here,” he whispered as he took his seat around a great fire.

  Then she saw Vercingetorix for the first time. She knew it was him, because he was flanked by spear-wielding guards. Bands of beaten gold were clasped around his upper arms. He was shorter than she’d thought, but he was burly, his entire body hard under the tartan he wore. His light brown hair was long, and his mustache touched his chest. At his side sat a woman, her copper hair in two long plaits. Behind Vercingetorix stood robed men—Druids. Freya did not like that at all. She was certain Siegfried wouldn’t like them either, especially because of how many there were. Six.

  “Thank you, Master,” Freya said. She wondered at her timidity around him, her easy compliance with his wishes. She herself had exp
ected to fight him more, because that was who she was.

  He took a seat on Vercingetorix’s left side with a grimace. The bench was made out of a split tree. There were not many comforts to be had in this camp, it seemed.

  “But I will still have you serve me.” Instead of having her kneel on his cape, he perched her on his lap. This time, it was she who fed him morsels of food and brought wine to his lips. She was nervous about spilling the wine on him in front of these people who didn’t like her. She did not want further attention from them.

  “So this is the woman you’ve brought for me,” Vercingetorix said, studying Freya. “The daughter of the Remi traitors.”

  “For him?” Freya asked Siegfried. Surely she’d misheard.

  “You should not have marked her,” Vercingetorix said before Siegfried could answer. “She’ll be a less valuable hostage, useless now that she cannot rule.”

  “He didn’t Mark me,” Freya said, shooting a glare at the robed men. “It was Druids.”

  Vercingetorix raised his brows. “Foolish considering Druids have been banned in Remi lands.”

  “I think bans hardly matter when they’re trying to knife the Remi princess,” Freya said. “That’s a banned activity, too.”

  “She speaks the truth,” Siegfried said. “Before our farcical wedding, she was pursued by Druids. Druids who were not in keeping with our plans.” He explained the events at Folkvang, omitting any part that involved magic.

  “You’ve never been given to dishonesty, Siegfried. Not with me, at least,” Vercingetorix said. “The question remains of what is to be done with her now. She is wanted in Remi lands but for murder. They are not going to surrender for a criminal.”