by Andromeda -
The warrior inside of him rose to the surface, and he turned to the people behind him. They had very small numbers, as most of their warriors had gone with Henrik for his raiding party. But they still had some fighters, the women, and even some of the teenagers all knew how to fight.
Gerik turned to them and nodded for them to get into the battle stations before he looked to Rashida. “You need to go tell Gala that she has to go to the safe house,” he instructed her.
“Why me?” Rashida asked.
“Because I’m going to be a bit busy in a couple minutes,” Gerik snapped. “Now go!”
He shoved her back toward the house, and while she didn’t like his hands touching her, Rashida knew that she had to get Gala and the others to safety, so she did as he instructed.
Picking up her skirts, she ran into the house and looked for Gala. “My lady?” she called out. “My lady! I need to talk to you! We need to leave!”
Gala appeared, her hand on her large belly. “What? Why?”
“Someone is attacking the village and we must go,” Rashida explained. “Pack your things.”
A loud boom from outside made everyone jump, and Rashida looked to Kaya and then turned around, rushing outside. The boom that she heard outside was Gerik and the other warriors beating on their shields. Their voices were raised in a deafening roar to try and intimidate their enemies, but Rashida knew that it wasn’t going to be enough. As the ships got closer, she could tell that the village was outnumbered twelve to one. One look at the Jarl’s face and Rashida knew that he was here to kill. This was going to be a massacre.
A warm body pressed against her leg, and when she looked down, she saw Bastet. The now young-adult mountain lion looked up to her with emerald green eyes, lips almost curved into a smile. Rashida knew then that everything would be alright. Her hand on the small of Bastet’s back, they walked to the docks where Gerik stood, sword and shield in hand.
“What are you doing?” Gerik snapped. “I told you to go tend to Gala.”
“You are not my master,” Rashida said simply before she turned back to look at the swiftly approaching Jarl and his boast.
“We are here to lay claim to this land!” the Jarl shouted. “Surrender peacefully and no one will die.”
“We see through your threats, my lord Jarl,” Rashida said, her voice echoing in that of the goddess. “You do not scare us.”
“What’s this?” the Jarl laughed. “A woman? Has Jarl Henrik left his home to be defended by walking wombs? Who do you think you are?”
“We have many names,” Rashida said. “Freyja, Gefn, Hörn. But the name we will be called now is Mardöll, meaning sea brightener…”
The sky around them darkened, the wind stilled. Rashida slowly raised her hand as a pulsing blue/white light began to radiate in her palm, and on the amber pendant on her necklace. Gerik and the other warriors took a step back, sensing the magic and power that she was going to unleash. The men in the Jarl’s ship grew silent. They were nervous and shifted in their seats, but the Jarl was not impressed.
“Don’t let her win!” he shouted to his men. “She is just trying to scare us with cheap tricks.”
“Cheap tricks?” Rashida repeated with a rueful laugh. “That is not what is going to happen here today.”
The water around Rashida began to bubble and smoke and a small whirlpool opened as the liquid began to move. Suspended above their heads, it molded itself into the form of a cat, opening its mouth and hissing. The Jarl’s jaw dropped in shock and Rashida’s lips curved into a smirk. With a flick of her wrist, the cat turned to face the Jarl and then lunged forward.
It moved forward with blinding speed, and when it was within mere feet from the Jarl’s ship, it leapt into the air, then dived into the water, disappearing. Everything was silent. Everyone held their breath. They wanted to see what would happen next. The water exploded.
The Jarl’s ships flew several feet in the air. People screamed as they were tossed about like rag dolls. The cat reappeared, only this time, there was almost half a dozen of them. They were like water demons, pouncing on the people who were struggling to swim to shore, forcing them down, dragging them into a watery grave. It was a truly terrible scene.
When the screams had grown quiet, and the air warmed again, the Jarl’s sword washed ashore with his signet ring. Rashida bent down and picked them up and handed them to Gerik.
“When Jarl Henrik returns, give him this,” she said. “And tell him he needs to leave his village better protected. We cannot protect him every time danger comes.”
The people parted for her as she left the docks, Bastet at her side.
Chapter Ten: Revisiting the Past
Alrik felt his stallion dance as they walked down the roads. The beast was used to galloping full out. A slow walk he found highly unfavorable. Alrik chuckled and patted his horse’s neck.
“I know, I know,” he said. “But we will be there soon.”
“Why don’t you take him out for a quick run,” Ingrid suggested. “Get that ticklish feeling out of his hooves.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Alrik kicked the stallion’s side and they sped away. Alrik was overjoyed. His spirit soured as they galloped through the lush green meadows. They were finally going back. After all these years, they were finally going back Safirinnsjø.
I’m going to see her again, Alrik thought to himself. I’m going to see Rashida…
When Ingrid finally told him that they were going back, he almost could believe it. Yet now, as they were get getting closer and closer to the village he was raised in, he could hardly contain himself.
Alrik pulled his horse to a stop at a stream, and he got off his back to let him drink. As the horse drank, Alrik heard something almost as soft as the wind. The sound of singing. Someone, he didn’t know who it was, was singing and they were close. He looked around and saw that the stream led to a waterfall, and as he neared the waterfall, the singing got louder.
Curiosity got the best of him. Curiosity so strong he risked his life in climbing up the slippery rocks in order to see who was singing. Never had he heard such a beautiful voice, and as he finally reached the top, he saw who it was. A woman, and it wasn’t just any woman. Alrik recognized her brown skin and flaming red hair instantly. Rashida.
She was in one of the bathing pools that were naturally heated from an underground spring. She was naked, of course, and lost in her own world as she sang to herself in Egyptian. Alrik pressed closer, hiding in a bush to get a closer look.
She had changed much more than he realized, more than he had dreamed or thought. From what he could tell, she was much taller now, and she had the complete body of a woman. Large, firm breasts sat high on her chest, she had lush curves and a perfectly round bottom.
Alrik felt himself become painfully hard almost instantly. Never had he seen such beauty and he found himself attracted to her looks much stronger than he did her pale-fleshed counterparts. As a matter of fact, now that he thought of it, Alrik didn’t find the pale-fleshed women of his culture attractive at all anymore. All he could think about was Rashida.
When she bent over to reach for something, he saw a flash of what laid between her legs and couldn’t stop himself from groaning. Almost instantly, he realized his mistake. Rashida whipped around and her eyes found him in the bushes. Her mouth opened, but he stood up.
“Please wait!” he said. “Don’t scream, please!”
Before Alrik knew it, there was an arrow pointed at his chest. A roar, a flash of black, and there was a mountain lion glaring at him, it’s teeth bared.
“Back away,” Rashida said coldly. “Slowly.”
Alrik nervously nibbled at his lip. He could feel his manhood become even harder at the sight of her in her naked glory, pointing an arrow at his chest. His culture valued strong women, and the sight of her only made him want her more. But he also knew that if he made the wrong step, she would release the arrow without a second thought, and he didn’t want that to happen.
“Alright,” he said. “I’m leaving.”
Slowly, he backed away, but his eyes never left hers. He didn’t want her to think that he was going to trick her. When he was at the bottom of the waterfall, he found his horse and swung back into the saddle, but he looked back up. She wasn’t watching him, but he smirked to himself as the imagery of her came back into his mind. He knew that wasn’t going to be any mistake. Rashida was going to be his.
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
When their small party entered the checkpoints of Safirinnsjø, people began to come out of their homes to see the visitors. It took them a short time to figure out who the travelers were, and before long, people were clapping, cheering and shouting their welcome for Alrik and his mother.
Ingrid smiled and waved to them, Alrik copying her movements. Yet, his eyes roamed over the crowds. He was looking for Rashida. He needed to see her. He’d go insane if he didn’t. It wasn’t until they neared his old home, however, did he see her. The moment he did, his heart began to thud in his chest.
She was dressed in a dark tan dress, edged with brown, the normal attire of a slave, but she shone brighter than anyone else. She also looked to be so…at peace to him. Her eyes were clear, her head was held high, and at her side stood that black mountain lion. Alrik looked at her neck, as he saw the amber and gold necklace and instantly, his face flushed with anger.
Someone must have given that to her, he thought to himself. But who? What am I saying, I don’t care. Rashida is mine, and always will be.
“Lady Ingrid,” said a haughty voice that Alrik recognized to be Gala’s. “And Alrik Henriksson. It’s been so long…”
“Yes, it has,” Ingrid said, though her voice was without the haughtiness. “We have come to see Henrik.”
“You have missed him,” Gala said. “He has left for raiding and we do not know when he will be back.”
“He will be back within a fortnight,” Rashida said suddenly. “Maybe sooner.”
Gala looked to the girl, her lips curved into a deep frown that Ingrid and Alrik did not miss. “Maybe sooner…” Gala repeated, though the words seemed to be bitter coming from her.
Alrik and Ingrid looked at each other, and then Ingrid turned back to Gala.
“We will wait for him then,” she said. “We can stay at the guest home that isn’t far from here.”
Gala looked as if she was going to protest, as everyone knew that she would rather see Henrik’s former wife and eldest son pitched off a cliff. But for the sake of hospitality, she knew that she couldn’t refuse them, or else risk the fury of the gods.
“That is fine with me,” she said and then turned to her servants. Her eyes roamed over them before settling upon Rashida. “You there, make sure that Lady Ingrid and her son are settled.”
Rashida bowed her head briefly. “Yes, my lady.” She stepped forward to Ingrid and bowed her head. “This way.”
There was silence as she led them to the guest house, and Rashida stepped aside for them to go inside.
“I hope everything is to your satisfaction,” she said. “I will leave you to get settled.”
Ingrid stepped inside, followed by their servants, but Alrik stayed outside with Rashida. He looked inside briefly at his mother, then turned to face the girl who had haunted his dream and mind for years.
“You don’t remember me,” he said. “Do you?”
“I remember you, Lord Alrik,” Rashida answered formally. “You have changed a lot since I last remember.”
Alrik frowned at the ‘lord’ title. It unsettled him. “You know that I hated that title…”
He took a step forward and cupped her cheek in his large palm. She allowed this for a moment, and then pulled away.
“My lord…” she said softly.
“Stop calling me that,” Alrik said.
Before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms, his lips pressing hard against her own. Rashida struggled. She pressed both palms against his chest to try and push him away, but it only made Alrik more persistent. His hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back as his lips slanted over hers to deepen it.
A warm feeling bubbled throughout her body, a feeling that she had no name for and yet she wanted more. But Alrik stopped almost as quickly as he had begun. His sapphire blue eyes took in her flushed face and her swollen lips with a smirk.
“I have returned to Safirinnsjø for one reason and one reason only,” he said. “You. You are going to be mine, Rashida. I’m not going to stop until you are in my bed, moaning my name as I within you. You are mine, Rashida, no other’s.”
He let her go, a smirk on his lips as he watched her hurry off.
Part Two
Freewoman
Chapter Eleven: Freedom of Body, not of Heart
“And five petals from the left side of the sunflower, picked at the break of dawn,” Rashida said to herself.
She knelt over a bubbling cauldron. At her left sat a book of tonics that Astrid had left for her. She was trying to make a skin ointment to sell at market. As she dropped in the petals, she lowered the fires’ heat before pouring the finished ointment into a bottle. All that was left was for it to cool.
“Kaya?” she called out as she stood to her feet. “Bastet and I are going out to the forest to collect more berries.”
Not wanting to wait for an answer, she got her cloak, a small dagger and left the house with Bastet at her side. The moment she stepped out, everyone nodded or bowed their heads in greetings. Some offered her homemade cakes or fruit pies, others just wished to touch her cloak, if only to feel her power for only a matter of moments. As she walked to the forest, however, footsteps behind her made her look back.
Alrik. He was dressed in dark grey, and was jogging to catch up with her.
“Rashida!” he called. “Rashida, wait up!”
“Go away, Lord Alrik,” Rashida said sharply. “I mean it.”
He grabbed her arm and pushed her against a tree, a smirk on his lips. “In a rush to be somewhere, my kind lady?”
“I need to gather berries for something,” she answered, as she prayed her heart would stop thudding in her chest.
“Oh? What might that be?” he asked.
“None of your concern, my lord,” she answered. “Now let me go, please.”
He did, but Alrik followed her deeper into the forest. He had heard the rumors around the village about her, what she was and what she could do. He wasn’t sure if he believed in it all 100-percent, but he knew that she was a special girl when they first met.
Rashida allowed him to follow her, but the nervous feelings that she got around him began to bubble to the surface. So, she stopped and turned to face him.
“Stop following me,” she snapped.
“Oh?” he asked as he moved closer. “Why is that?”
“Because it’s strange and you are distracting me,” she snapped as she tried to take a step back.
Alrik grabbed her waist and pulled her close to him. He pressed her so that she could feel his arousal through her dress. “Do you feel what you do to me?” he asked, his voice thick.
“My lord, let me go,” Rashida protested.
“Call me Alrik,” he said.
“My lor—” she tried to say.
“ALRIK!” he said firmly. “Say it! I want to hear you say it!”
She swallowed slowly. “A…Alrik.”
His lips curved into a smirk. “See? Now was that so hard?”
“Alrik, let me go,” Rashida pleaded.
“No,” he said. “Never.”
He kissed her, and once again, Rashida struggled, only to feel that same bubbling sweet warmth spread throughout her body. Using his weight, he pressed her against a tree and pulled her up so that they were of the same height.
His hand dipped down, pulling up her dress as he traced his fingers over her hot flesh. When he neared her core, he moved his fingers over it gently before they moved forward, parting her sacred lips and slipping his mi
ddle finger inside.
Rashida’s back arched as she gasped. The feeling of his finger felt strange, and it hurt a little, making her whimper. Alrik heard it and withdrew his finger from her. Instead, he found her love pearl and began to gently rub it between his forefinger and thumb.
“This is what I will do to you and more when you are mine,” he whispered in her ear.
Her legs felt like jelly, and she would have fallen to her knees had Alrik not been holding her up. Never had she felt something like this before. Never had she felt this pleasure that moved throughout her with every rub of his fingers. She had wished for this. She had asked the goddess to gift her with a person who she could love.
“Alrik, I can’t,” she panted. “I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” he said firmly. “I knew that you were going to be mine the first time I met you. I claim you as mine.”
“I belong…to no man,” she protested weakly.
“I lay claim to your heart,” he said. “I lay claim to your body. This,” he cupped her, “is mine. These breasts, those lips, are also mine. And when the time comes, I will plant my seed and you will gift me with children. Sons and daughters, who we will both love.”
His words were heated. She could sense that he had thought long and hard over what he was telling her, but Rashida knew that this still could not be. They could not be. The life of Seiðr was a hard one, and she didn’t want to place that burden upon Alrik.
“Alrik, I—” she protested.
He cut her off by rubbing her love pearl faster to bring her to a release. As he did this, he took her hand and placed it on his manhood. “This is what you do to me,” he said, wrapping her hand around it. “This will only belong to you, just like this will only belong to me.”
She couldn’t respond. Her lower half felt as if it was on fire. Her body felt as if it was floating on a cloud. Her head was tossed back as she cried out in her very first release.
As she panted to catch her breath, Alrik removed his hand, his fingers covered with her nectar and licked them clean. “So, nice to have talked to you again,” he said with a smirk. “That and more awaits you in my bed…”