Death and Beauty

by Samantha MacLeod

  “Oh, my Lady,” I growled as I pressed my lips to hers, lowering myself onto her body.

  It took everything I had to enter her slowly. I kept one hand on her clit, rubbing her gently as I pressed inside her. Still, I almost lost it once she rippled under me, her glorious body rocking against mine, her sweet heat embracing me.

  She yelped, and I pulled back immediately. Her hands wrapped around my legs, pressing me closer.

  “No, don’t stop,” she moaned. “It hurt for a second, but, oh, it doesn’t hurt any more.”

  I held my breath and pressed into her, entering her fully. She gasped, arching her back as her legs tightened around my thighs. The sight of her body spread before me, lips parted, eyes rolled back, almost undid me. When was the last time I’d wanted so desperately to please a woman?

  I closed my teeth around my tongue, trying to focus as I caressed her hard nub, watching her body react. Only when she began rocking her hips against mine did I move inside her, thrusting as slowly as I could, following her lead. Oh, she was so tight around my cock, and so hot. I could feel every shiver, every way her body responded to my touch.

  “What magic is this?” she gasped as her entire body began to tremble.

  I pushed harder, thrusting into her as I rubbed my fingers against her clit. She gasped, her hands digging into my shoulders, twining through my hair. As she came, her pleasure surged through me, her heat and release entering me, spurring me on. Her body tightened around me, and she felt so good I could no longer hold back.

  I wrapped my hands around her hips and crashed into her, finally giving in to the impulse to fill her, to lose myself in her. I exploded inside of her, coming hard for longer than I would have thought possible, oblivious to everything but the pleasure she brought me.

  When my vision finally returned to normal, Hel was smiling beneath me, the light through her window washing her exquisite features in delicate cerulean. She looked so beautiful, almost delicate, and a shiver of apprehension danced down my spine.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

  Her smiled widened, dreamy and blissful. “So that’s what it’s like. I can see why it drives the mortals mad.”

  I shifted to her side, not wanting to crush her. I couldn’t help a sigh as I eased out of her warm body. “Well, it drives the Æsir mad, too. You should see the way men lose their minds around Freyja. Even Óðinn.”

  Hel ran her fingers along my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Damn, I just finished fucking her, and already shivers of arousal rippled from her touch. My cock twitched against the smooth curve of her thigh, and her eyes widened.

  “Can we do it again?” she asked.

  I grinned. Now how was I supposed to refuse that?

  CHAPTER 7

  Hel’s narrow single bed was beyond uncomfortable. After making love for the fifth time - or had it been the sixth? - we’d both collapsed in exhaustion. But I’d woken shortly afterward, crushed against the cold stone wall and unwilling to move Hel’s gorgeous sleeping body. I tried sleeping on the floor, which was even worse than the bed, not to mention freezing. I finally ended up in the chair at her desk, dozing in little fits and starts.

  Now I stood at her window, watching dawn begin in Niflhel. Hel’s window had an amazing view. It must have been built, I realized, so no one could look in on her while she slept. There were no other buildings in sight, not so much as a window ledge. Just a lovely, uninterrupted view of the river, the rolling foothills, and the jagged black mountains. The sky turned a pale turquoise as I watched, improving the view with each passing minute.

  But I wasn’t overly interested in the scenery. I was watching Hel sleep.

  She lay on her side, with her face to the wall. The blanket had fallen off her shoulder, and one elegant long leg poked out, her toes pointed at the window like a dancer. My body hummed in response as the light grew, caressing her soft skin. I would’ve thought last night used me up, but my cock stiffened as my eyes traced the curve of that leg, from her ankle to the swell of her calf to the thin strip of thigh peeking out from under the dark covers.

  I wrapped my hand around my cock and stroked once, remembering the feel of Hel’s fingers last night. And the other parts of her body. She sighed in her sleep and more of the blanket slipped from her shoulder, revealing the smooth skin of her back. My hand tightened and my breath caught in my throat.

  Damn, this woman was amazing. When was the last time I’d been this turned on? I closed my eyes, leaning against the cold wall as I ran my hand gently over the stiff length of my cock.

  I’d lost my head over a few women, back when I first discovered the pleasures of sex. They were mortal, of course; I always watched myself too closely with the Æsir to really fall in love. Kirstin I remembered, the mortal woman who lived at the edge of the forest, the one with raven hair and lips like strawberries. She’d done this to me, filled me with a hunger that seemed like it would never be satiated. Until the day Óðinn called me to his throne to show me what happened to Loki’s mortal lovers. I told myself he wasn’t threatening me, but still, the vision scared me. I never saw Kristin again.

  When I first married Nanna, I’d hoped our marriage vows might create the same sense of excitement and urgency I’d so briefly enjoyed with my first lovers, despite the fact that our matrimony was a contract drawn up by our parents without any input from either of us. Perhaps, in retrospect, I was a fool for hoping passion would grow in such cold, formal ground.

  But if those first few days of married life had been with Hel... My cock stiffened against my palm, and I bit back a groan. Last night was amazing. It was everything I’d once hoped I’d find with a wife.

  The covers rustled as Hel shifted, and my eyes flew open. I dropped my hands and slammed down on the chair, leaning forward so Hel’s desk would cover my raging erection. I’d learned a fair amount about women over my long lifetime, and I was willing to guess Hel would be freaked out by me jacking off while she slept. Or telling her I was fantasizing about marriage after one night together.

  Hel yawned and blinked, a slow smile spreading over her face when she saw me. “Baldr. I thought you may have been a dream.”

  My heart clenched. “No, gorgeous. I’m real.”

  Her delicate features frowned as she sat up, regrettably pulling the blanket over her breasts. “Yet you look so serious. Is something bothering you?”

  How could she tell, damn it? I’d only known this woman a handful of days, and already she could read me. I ran my hand through my hair, searching for something to say. And of course, there was something on my mind, a question that had been driving me crazy all night.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I said.

  She made a face, but I pressed on.

  “It’s just — I don’t know why you keep it hidden.”

  Hel sighed and turned to the wall, showing me her left side. It must be a reflex, I realized, showing her impassive skeletal side anytime someone provokes a reaction.

  “Hel, you’re the most beautiful woman in the Nine Realms.”

  “And that’s all I would be,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  She took a deep breath. Her hands were knotting the blanket around her chest. “My mother started my marriage negotiations before I could walk,” she said. “She had a lot to gain by a prosperous alliance, and even more to gain playing my suitors off one another. By the time I turned ten, my whole life was laid out for me.”

  I nodded. My life followed a similar path, although I wasn’t betrothed to Nanna until I turned eighteen. Still, it’s not like I had a say in the whole arrangement.

  “So...it was your way of avoiding marriage?”

  She sighed again. “No. Yes, but no.”

  “It’s okay. If I’m pressing my bounds as your consort, just tell me.”

  “It wasn’t just marriage, though. It was everything. I mean, what do you know of Freyja?”

  “W
hat do you mean?”

  Hel rolled her eyes. “She’s beautiful, right?”

  “Well, of course. But I know she has her chariot, and her share of the dead from Midgard. And her necklace.”

  “Right. But before all that, above all that: She’s beautiful. That’s what Freyja is, right? Beautiful. And I didn’t want to be that. I didn’t want to be reduced.”

  I frowned, trying to understand. “I don’t think Freyja feels like she’s been, uh, reduced.”

  Hel shook her head, her fiery hair slowly settling over her shoulders. “If anyone could understand, I would think it would be you. Doesn’t it ever bother you to be Baldr the Beautiful?”

  “Well, I don’t know...” I said, my voice fading as I considered her words.

  Of course it got annoying. There were times when it would be nice to talk to someone without having them blush, or giggle, or pretend it was an accident when our bodies brushed together. But it was damned useful, too. To give that up, to have to get by just on the strength of my personality..? I shivered.

  “When did you start?” I asked.

  Hel straightened her back. “My father taught me illusions on my thirteenth birthday.”

  I whistled. “And that was it? You just kept wearing it?”

  “Pretty much.” She shrugged. “Everyone who’d known me before assumed it was some kind of a curse. My mother knew, of course, but she couldn’t say. It would have been too embarrassing to reveal she couldn’t control me. And the suitors just disappeared. Eventually.”

  I walked to the bed and kissed the back of her neck, then sat in front of her and kissed her forehead. “Then I feel incredibly lucky you’ve chosen to share yourself with me.”

  Her smile lit her eyes and, before she could respond, my lips were on hers, my hands moving over the irresistable curves of her body, pushing the covers away, rediscovering the glorious, hidden secrets of her body.

  “You keep looking at me,” Hel said, the corners of her mouth pulling into a shy smile.

  It was the first time we’d left her chambers in days, and we were walking through the orchard. It was my idea. Since she surprised me with an enormous bed, and a couch to replace her lone, uncomfortable chair, there hadn’t been much reason to leave her room. I’d joked Hel’s subjects might all think I managed to abscond with her and, after she laughed, she told me it was probably time to show me off.

  So we walked through the castle, arm in arm. I found it quite satisfying to watch the horrified expressions in our wake. After all my many years of trying to please everyone, I found it inordinately satisfying to make people uncomfortable. And then, once we’d said hello to what I imagined had to be every single person in the castle, I asked to come back here, to the place where I’d first seen her without her illusion.

  The blossoms were slightly past their prime. Only a few white flowers lined the branches, and most of the petals lay in heaps and drifts on the grass. Another rumpled stray petal had managed to find its way into the fiery golden curls of Hel’s hair. She’d shed her illusion once she felt certain we were alone, and the sunlight only highlighted her unearthly beauty.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop looking at you,” I said.

  She smiled, but Hel wasn’t one to be put off by flattery. “You’re looking at me like you have a question,” she said.

  I grinned. I did, in fact, have a question.

  “It’s this place,” I began. “It made you uncomfortable, the first time we came here. I just wondered why.”

  She frowned and turned, showing the left side of her face.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” I said.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said, waving her hand. “I guess it’s just embarrassing.”

  I took her hand, kissed it, and waited.

  “I love these orchards,” she said, her voice soft as the flower petals at our feet. “They’re the most beautiful place in Niflhel. And I suppose, when I brought you here, I was trying to impress you.” Her cheeks flared red.

  “It worked,” I said.

  Hel shook her head. “It was more than that, though. I mean, I knew I couldn’t hope to impress Baldr the Beautiful, the most attractive man in the Nine Realms. It was hopeless to even try. So I was upset with myself for making such a stupid, misguided attempt.”

  I pulled her into my arms, folding her soft warmth against my chest. “And yet you did impress me.”

  She sighed, her body relaxing against mine. I kissed her hair and stared at the trees, the rows and rows of thick, gnarled trunks that must have been lovingly pruned year after year. They had to be ancient. My heart ached as a new thought broke through my consciousness.

  “Hel, did you plant this orchard?”

  She nodded against my chest. “Of course. I took cuttings from Jötunheimr. I loved the orchards there.”

  I felt cold. The hundreds of years these trees had seen, the flood of time it must have taken to grow an orchard from a cutting. Years upon years of wearing an illusion, hiding her true self. Walking alone through the flower blossoms each spring.

  “All that time,” I said, “and you never took another consort?”

  She laughed, but it was a small, sad laugh. “You know what I look like. You really think anyone else would be crazy enough to want me?”

  I kissed her hair, then her ear. “You could have shown him this,” I whispered, moving my lips along the hollow of her collarbone, the place that always made her gasp.

  “No, I couldn’t. I...”

  Her words trailed off as my hand moved down her backside, undoing the clasps of her dress.

  “Oh, Hel,” I moaned, running my face along her neck as I slipped the dress off her shoulders. “We have got so much time to make up.”

  She moaned and pressed her hips into mine. My cock surged in response, hungry for her. Her fingers traced the bulge in my pants and it was my turn to gasp, to press my body into her touch.

  A trumpet sounded, the clear note rising across the orchard, shaking the blossoms on the trees. Hel backed away and her body stiffened in a flurry of light as she wove her illusion. By the time she’d pulled her dress back over her shoulders, we heard the thud of horse’s hooves and Eriksen’s voice.

  “Hel!” he called. “Hel, are you here?”

  “Yes,” she responded, hiding none of her irritation.

  A moment later Eriksen’s enormous black stallion crashed through the trees, scattering petals and twigs in its wake. He dismounted, bowing low before Hel. “I am so sorry.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I specifically asked not to be disturbed.”

  “Yeah, what if we’d been otherwise occupied?” I added.

  Eriksen shuddered as I grinned at him.

  “I would never have come if the situation hadn’t warranted my actions,” he said stiffly.

  Hel sighed. “Fine. What’s the situation?”

  Eriksen hesitated, his eyes darting over me before returning to Hel. “It’s... It is a bit delicate.”

  “Anything you have to say to me can be said in the presence of my consort.”

  “Very well. Queen Hel, Frigg has traveled to Niflhel.”

  I shuddered as if I’d been hit. “What? My mother Frigg?”

  Hel’s hand wrapped gently around my wrist. “Has she died?”

  “No. No, she is very much alive. And she is, uh, demanding to speak with you.”

  Hel frowned. “About what?”

  Eriksen’s eyes jumped over me again. “About him. I believe she is going to request the return of Baldr.”

  CHAPTER 8

  It was only the second time I’d seen the throne room, and it was far more intimidating this time around. The torches cast flickering orange light across the hard, black walls and floor. Even the crowd looked somber, dressed in dark colors with serious expressions.

  And Hel looked, well, terrifying. She wore all black, and the torches highlighted the harsh white lines of her exposed skeleton. Her human side was no
more welcoming than her dead side, with her pale lips set in a hard line. She wore no crown and held no scepter. She didn’t need to. Her nightmare body on her ebony throne said it all.

  Hel suggested I wait in the shadows until we understood exactly what my mother was doing in the realm of the inglorious dead, so I missed Frigg’s approach. I heard the ripple of subdued conversation, the rustle of clothing as people turned to watch her walk through the room. I sank back in the crowd, trying not to make eye contact.

  It was only once the low ebb of conversation ceased entirely and the crowd stood still that I was able to see my mother, standing tall in front of the throne. I had to admit, Frigg looked pretty terrifying herself. She wore her full robes, with the heavy silver crown she almost never brought out of the vault. There was a hard line between her eyebrows that I’d learned to fear as a child. Her servant Fulla stood behind her, along with my brother Hermod. Shrewd. Traveling to Niflhel alone would have been unwise, but a woman accompanied by her servant and son were hardly enough to be considered an invasion. Although they would be quite formidable, if it came to fighting.

  Hel raised her skeletal hand and the crowd shifted, craning to view the throne.

  “Queen Frigg,” Hel began, her voice as cold as the black stone walls. “How rare to have a visit from the realms of the living. To what do I owe the honor?”

  My mother inclined her head very, very slightly. “Queen Hel. I’ll not waste your time with unnecessary formalities. I have come for Baldr Óðinnsen. I will return him to Asgard, and we shall leave you in peace.”

  My heart sank. We knew what she’d demand, of course. Still, I’d held onto some small, wild hope she was here for another reason.

  Hel arched her delicate dark eyebrow. “Why?”

  A ripple of subdued conversation moved across the room. I saw the edge of Frigg’s mouth twitch. She hadn’t expected that response.

  “Excuse me?” Frigg asked.

  “Baldr Óðinnsen died,” Hel said. “As he did not fall in battle, he belongs to my realm. And yet here you are, demanding I violate the rules of all Nine Realms by returning him to Asgard. Why would I do such a thing?”