by Jane Price
“No, Mary the daughter of the town leader. I only mean that you are a beautiful woman. How has nobody taken you as their own yet?” Mary sat back, once again comforted by his touch now knowing that he was merely being sweet in his own way. She had noticed that she too had actually reached out towards him and was holding onto his biceps as they spoke.
“My father was very protective. No one was good enough for his little girl.” Throck nodded with understanding. He began to unfasten her clothing again as he spoke.
“I feel the same way about my own daughter,” he leaned forward and kissed her. Mary didn’t even have time to process the thought before Throck was already lifting her back up, and carrying her towards the bed that was tucked in the back of the house.
****
Mary was putty in Throck’s hands. His hands flew over her body, untying and unhooking things as they went. Her clothes were scattered throughout the house and by the time they had arrived in her bed chamber, she was naked and riding high on adrenaline. Throck tossed her gently down onto the bed, covered in cloth linens. He stood there, still dressed and admired her as she made her herself comfortable in bed.
She had a head of light red hair that swarmed around her head. Throck looked down and was pleased to see that the same hair was also down below. Small, tight orange curls, welcomed his advance.
He reached down and cupped her face in his hands and kissed her once passionately. Mary could feel the callouses brush against her face, but did not mind. Those callouses were permanent signs of experience, experience that she was looking forward to getting to know firsthand.
Throck stood back up and removed his clothes. The chainmail fell to the ground with a thud and the leather shirt fell along with it. His body was covered in mud and it was caked in sweat, but she also noticed the scars he must have received over years of battle.
He had placed his shield and sword near the door, almost as a sign to the other men that the house was occupied. His trousers fell next and Mary nearly gasped when she saw his cock for the first time.
Throck lowered himself onto the bed, his hands felt the bedding and he shook his head. He clearly didn’t approve of it, but he moved on and began to kiss Mary. Their lips locked and Mary felt his tongue probe and feel around for her own. Within a moment, they fell into a rhythm, their bodies, lips, and tongues in sync. Her back arched and she felt goosebumps crawl across her skin. The stayed like this for a while, just enjoying the embrace.
Next, his hands began their descent. His fingers gently slid down to her breasts. They were large and supple, but perky. What she lacked in experience, her body seemed to make up for. He pinched her nipples and she moaned, a first for her. She felt her head roll back, her eyes lost focus and another wave of goosebumps cascaded over her body.
Throck whispered something into her ear, a phrase not in her own language, but she knew what he was insinuating with his tone. She nodded and felt his hands continue to descend down her body. One hand spent time at her hips, pulling them towards himself and massaging them with his thumbs. But then for the first time, she felt like she heard the voice of the angels as he continued down.
He continued to whisper in her ear, and with completely no understanding of what he was saying, she agreed. His fingers began to gently comb through her pubic hair playfully, and stopped at her clit, where the rough, calloused hands became soft and caring. With two fingertips Throck rubbed it, Mary moaning and grabbing at his back. Her fingernails scratched at his back as he rubbed.
He began to kiss her neck as her head and eyes rolled back in pleasure. His lips lapped at the beads of sweat that were forming on her skin. She was unable to control her body at this point, but it was just the beginning. After a moment, the fingers that once merely were rubbing, now slowly entered inside her.
Mary let out a loud moan and she could feel Throck smiling as he continued to passionately kiss and nibble at her neck. He moved from her neck and began to kiss her again, just as her breath became short and ragged again. The kissing only made it more difficult to focus, but Mary didn’t mind at all.
His fingers slid easily back and forth inside her, by this point her pussy was nearly dripping. With the two fingers he gently rubbed along her G Spot and she felt her body begin to shake uncontrollably. Her legs went from tense to numb so many times she couldn’t keep track. She wanted to scream, but didn’t want to pull away from his lips either.
Throck rose slightly so that he was now fully on top of her. He slowly removed his fingers, her body contorting as he did so, she didn’t want it to be over. He leaned down and began to suck on her breasts, his tongue flicked the erect nipples and she cried out his name. As she did this he lightly bit her. She looked down and saw a smile out of him for the first, but not last time.
With one hand he braced himself above her, with the other he took his now erect dick and slowly took the tip and rubbed it over her clit. Mary didn’t know what to expect next, but was very nearly sent into shock.
The tip stopped and Throck gently began to slide inside of her. She felt as the lips of her pussy spread wider than they ever had, and felt his manhood enter her. Her back arched and she let out a loud moan, shocked by the pleasure. Her hips rose up to meet his and she slowly felt herself losing control.
Throck sat back so he was firmly on his knees and took a hold of her hips and began to thrust further and further inside her. She screamed with each thrust and never wanted it to end. Her thighs gripped him tightly as he continued to thrust. He left one hand on her hip to help guide her where she needed to go, but with his other he reached up and grabbed her tit which formed perfectly in his hand.
With the breast cupped in his hand he used his thumb to playfully tease the nipple. Mary could hardly stand all of the stimulus at once. She felt a strange sensation come over her body that she didn’t know how to handle. Her body shook even harder than before and Throck looked down at her, a smile etched across his face.
Mary came the hardest she would ever cum. Her body convulsed and shook and she tried to pull away from Throck, but he held her even closer. As her body relaxed, he flipped her over onto her stomach and laid on top of her. He slowly inserted himself again, and Mary felt herself let out a moan, so interlaced with pleasure and so guttural she didn’t even believe it was her own voice.
Throck continued to thrust, his hands were now down, groping and grabbing at her small, firm ass. She felt his dick began to throb inside her and she heard his breaths becoming more and more short and airy with each thrust. Soon, the thrusts began to slow and she felt as his body shuddered on top of hers. She felt her body fill with his warmth and he rolled off of her, back into the bed sheets and rolled her over so that they were both staring at the ceiling together.
Mary couldn’t stop herself, but found her eyes slowly closing, her body tired and sweaty. She drifted off to sleep then, her hand reaching out for Throck’s.
****
Mary woke up not long after to the sound of dishes clinking together and meat tearing. She opened her eyes slowly and as her eyes came into focus, she saw Throck sitting across the room, staring intently at her.
He held a pewter mug in one hand and a plate of assorted foods sat in his naked lap. With his free hand he was picking the food up and eating it. She was transfixed and he washed down the salted meat with a mouthful of wine. He swirled it and swallowed, smiling at her.
She leaned over to get up and saw that he had prepared her a plate as well. Her own cup full of wine sat next to it on the floor beside the bed. He had clearly been busy while she was asleep. Throck stood up and made his way to the bed.
He placed his dishes on the floor beside her own and crawled in beside her. His hands wrapped around her and she sighed. She finally felt safe after everything that had been happening.
Just then, she seemingly remembered who Throck was. She had been so swept up in the emotions and the excitement and did not even think of who, and what, he was. She sprung out of bed and scampered t
o cover herself in the blanket as she stood up. Throck playfully tore the sheet away, leaving her exposed again. She looked at him in terror as he leaned back and stretched out in the bed, his naked body spreading out.
“You will prefer the skins that I have on my bed.” Mary walked around the room quickly and collected her clothing. It took her a moment to fully register what it was that he said and she remembered him saying something about a daughter as well before everything else. “The skins that we have are much warmer.” He rubbed the sheet on his face and grimaced. “Softer as well.”
“What are you saying?” Mary looked at him doubtful and confused. She frantically tried to get her clothes on, but found herself shaking again and was unable to get them on. Throck stood up, picked up the two cups of wine, and walked across the room towards her.
He held out a cup for her and waited until she tentatively grabbed it. He then held his up to his mouth, but didn’t drink. He waited for her to respond. She lifted her cup and they both drank for a moment without speaking. Throck waited for her shaking to subside.
“You’ll come and live with me.” He took a step back and stared at her body, still exposed. She had never like the attention she received and was normally uncomfortable when men had oogled over her in the past, but not with the way he stared for some reason. “You’re strong willed and brave. I admire that.” He then pointed at her stomach. “And the gods have blessed me. I believe that you’ll bear me a son.” Mary shook her head still confused and overwhelmed by the whole thing.
“But you already have a child, and a wife.” Throck’s face dropped and he turned. He headed back towards the bed where spoke again.
“Child yes, a young daughter. But no wife.” He sat on the bed and finished his mug of wine, placing it on the ground. “She died in childbirth, so she never granted me a son.” He pointed at Mary again. “Then the gods brought me you. You are the answer to my prayers.” Mary felt herself blush slightly and took a sip of wine before she responded.
“But I’ve never been away from home, my village.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Let alone England.” Throck nodded, smiled, and looked around the room, taking it all in again. He stood up and crossed the floor to her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead and cheeks.
“This is no longer your home. Your home is with me now.”
****
The trip back to Throck’s home was one that was fraught with trials for Mary. Throck’s men needed reassurance that Mary wouldn’t pose a problem during their trip. They seemed to fear that she would cause Throck or the other men to become distracted from the job at hand, plus they were unsure about the weight of all their loot.
Throck however felt that he needed the promise from all his men that no one, regardless of rank, prestige in combat, or drink, would touch her during the trip. Mary sat in silence while this was discussed, as she did not believe that she held a vote in the matter. Throck had told her that she was coming with them and she trusted him. So, after promises were made, they began their long journey home.
Mary had never spent this long on a ship, let alone a Viking long ship, which had no cover or protection from the sun during the day or the cold during the night. Her only experience with ships had been small fishing boats in a nearby lake, something that she told Throck once they taken off.
Throck did his best to protect her from as much as possible, but she found that there wasn’t much that either of them could do. With the ships riding so low among the waves, she found that there was no respite from the salt water or Mother Nature. So, Mary suffered through the trip, only succumbing to seasickness once, much to the entertainment of the crew.
Mary still couldn’t understand their language, but she was very well versed in inflection, having grown up with a father who often didn’t say what he was truly feeling at the time. She learned over time that she needed to infer meanings out of empty phrases. However, over the trip, she did her best to pick up on key phrases or words.
Two weeks passed before they arrived back on the Icelandic coast, much to the pleasure of the people there that had been praying to the gods for their safe return. Mary herself had prayed, but she prayed to her Christian god, something that had frightened the men. They believed that she would anger their gods, so she was forced to do it in silence.
As their ships pulled into the harbor of their home, there were wives and children who were standing on the dock, awaiting their return, as well as the older generation of men who were too old or frail to come with them. The men on the ship stopped rowing long enough to stand and wave, finding their loved ones amongst the crowd.
Mary noticed that Throck too stood up and waved at a little girl who stood with a few other children, most likely the children of people just like her. Children who had lost a parent, whether it be from childbirth or warfare. Mary noted how beautiful the girl was, her hair shone even brighter than Throck’s and she wore the same intense expression that he did.
Mary sat by patiently though trying not to draw attention to herself. Throck leaned down as they began to dock and whispered to her about what she needed to do.
“Stay with the loot until after we meet with the Jarl. He will make the final decision on everything.” Mary was confused by this statement and didn’t fully understand, but before she could ask for clarification. Throck had promised that she would live with him, but he and the rest of the men were jumping off the boat onto the dock. Mary went to speak, but held her tongue.
A few minutes passed while the men hugged and kissed their family members, the men squatted down and slipped their children gifts they had snuck away from the main hold. The crowd slowly dissipated as the families returned to their homes, just happy to see their fathers and husbands returned. The men returned to the ship and began to offload all of the gold, wine, and food they have taken during their raids. As they loaded nearby wagons and carts, Throck stepped forward and helped Mary off of the boat. He once again told her to stay back with the gold and other things while he spoke with the Jarl. He walked her towards a cart and lifted her into it.
Throck slowly backed away from her and winked. With that, they began their ascent to the Great Hall.
****
The Great Hall was one of the most ornate structures that Mary had ever witnessed in her life. The large wooden beams that supported the building were literal tree trunks and the thatched roof spanned the entire building. She had seen builders and architects use thatching for roofs before, but never to this size or scale.
The hall also had a number of fireplaces that lined the hall, filling it with smoke slightly, but keeping it a comfortable temperature, as opposed to the blistering cold of outside.
Long tables, clearly cut out of the local trees sat, lined with plates, cups, and pitchers, ran the entire length of the room. Stools and chairs were placed haphazardly throughout as well. Each piece of silverware that she saw on the table appeared to be different, all mismatched from various raids that they had made. She was amazed by the difference in all of them, from simple clay to ornate pieces of gold and silver. These men must have been nearly everywhere.
One of the men that was following behind the carts reached up past Mary and removed a pewter mug from a bag that was overflowing with various pieces of home goods that they had taken from her village. He then stopped off at one of the tables and tested the pitchers until he found one that was full. He sniffed it apprehensively and poured himself a glass, taking a swig. With pitcher and glass in hand he followed after the group.
The carts stopped and Mary turned to see the Jarl. He was an older man, nearly in his seventies by the greying of his hair. He was a frail man, tall, with long wispy hair being held out of his face by an incredibly ornate golden crown. His fingers were all boney with the skin loose, but they each wore a finely jeweled ring. From that distance she knew that she saw rubies and sapphires at least. His shoulders were draped in animal skin, and two women, both much younger than him, sat on each
side of him, their breasts exposed.
As the convoy of warriors and loot stopped to a halt, Mary watched Throck continue to walk forward until he stood at the feet of the Jarl. Even though the Jarl clearly held a more prestigious rank than Throck, he did not seem to let it affect his demeanor. He still stood with the same intense look on his face, although he was daring the Jarl to test him. And he did, as it was the Jarl who spoke first.
“Throck, son of Ragnar, you have returned.” The Jarl looked passed him and looked at the carts full of gold. “And you return successful,” He said with a childish glee in his voice. The Jarl stood up and pushed by Throck, towards the cart full of the treasure. He opened a bag in the first cart and gold coins spilled out onto the floor. The Jarl turned toward Throck with a smile on his face. “The gods clearly smiled upon you and your men on this raid.”
The men around the room all chuckled and nodded with appreciation. Throck though stood in silence, awaiting his next words. “The Jarl, and the gods, are pleased. You may all go.” The men began to murmur to themselves, unsure of why they were not allowed to keep anything for themselves. The man who was drinking wine finished the contents and tucked the cup inside his pack. He wanted something for his troubles, even if it was a plain cup. That is when Throck spoke up.
