The Warrior's Claim (Rivine & darkangel76)

[darkangel76]

Tiernan’s body already ached and she knew full well that her ribs were bruised. The way she’d been handled when taken from her people ensured that she’d have marks that would last for days. Marks that would remind her of the bloody events that took place when she’d been taken against her will. Abducted from her family, the only life she’d ever known.

Standing in a dark and damp holding area located somewhere on a ship she’d never seen before, Tiernan had access to a small view port. It was at just the right height that she could peer out of it and see her coastal village getting more and more distant. Her heart sank as she watched the smoke billowing up into the overcast sky.

So much destruction. So much death. Liam…

Tears began to form in Tiernan’s pale eyes, threatening to spill down her dirty pale cheeks. Instinctually, she went to wipe at them. But as she moved her hand to reach for her face, she met resistance. And with that resistance came the clanking sound of chains. She gasped just then, remembering that she’d been shackled and had already walked a fair distance away from where they’d been secured to the ship itself. Hanging her head a bit, her dark hair falling in her face, she felt those tears begin to fall. Moving a bit closer to where her shackles were secured, the chains began to get some slack and she was able to wipe at her now dampened eyes.

Just then, there was a rumble of thunder causing Tiernan to look up and over toward the view port. Quickly, she made her way back over to it and peered out once again. A storm was coming. The thick, black clouds easily visible from where she stood, a prisoner of the barbarian men who murdered her brother and destroyed her home. Despite her own dire circumstances, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny sense of elation wash over her at the sound of the impending storm. With the rains, the fires would be smoldered, putting them out so that her village would burn no more. Given the state of things, it was all she had to hold onto, that hope that the storm would help those who survived the raid. Ease their pain. Cleanse the dark memory.

Tiernan didn’t know how long she stood there looking through the small opening. However, her village was no longer in sight and the light of day was turning dusky, the darkness pronounced even more given the storm that surrounded them. Thoughts of her family suddenly filled her mind, her nerves nearly numb from all that had occurred so far. She thought about her parents and the loss they had to bear in losing Liam, her brother. And then there were her other brothers… Sean, Connor and Arthur. From what she could remember, they’d all been all right just before everything had gone black and the burlap bag placed over her head. However, the blackness of the bag didn’t tamp out the memory of Liam’s death. No. She could still vividly see that horrific event playing over and over again in her head.

Liam. What those barbaric men had done to him had been beyond brutal. Sadistic. He’d been trying to protect her, his little sister, from the men raiding the village. And Tiernan knew why. She’d heard the screams of the other women, heard their pleas as they murdered their children, spouses. As those men raped them. The terror that had coursed through her as those strange men stomped over everything she loved, taking anything and everything they wanted, had been so great in those short moments before her abduction. For some reason, one of the strange men had targeted her making Liam go on the defensive. He’d tried so hard to protect her, but those men were warriors, trained in arts foreign to her simple people. They’d speared him alive, gutting him like the fish she’d seen her father and brothers clean several times over. The sight of it had made her sick, had caused her to vomit. But the sight was nothing compared to his screams.

Just then, Tiernan’s mind snapped out of the nightmarish memory trying to poke at her mind. Shivering, she wrapped her arms about her slim middle and sat down on the dirty floor. Hugging her knees to her chest she began to weep. What was to become of her? Her family had wanted her to be safe, married. Collin. Oh what she’d give to be with Collin at that moment. She didn’t love him the way he wished, but a life with him would be bliss compared to where she currently found herself. Sitting there, sobbing, she wondered if she’d taken the man for granted. After all, he’d been Liam’s best friend…

Liam.

Again, Tiernan began to shake with sobs. As she buried her face in her hands, her body sore and cold and bruised, she heard the sound of hard footsteps approaching. Those strange warrior men. Those barbarians. Murderers. Looking up, she brushed her dark tresses out of her eyes and glanced in the direction of the footfalls. Across the way she saw the silhouettes of large men approaching her. They were laughing and guffawing, obviously drunk with power they felt at having destroyed her home, killing her loved ones, raping the women. As she watched them get closer, the looks on their faces making her blood run cold, she began to wonder what her fate would be. Trembling, silent tears streaking her face, she began to fear the worst.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr stood at the bow, one of his powerful hands upon the steering oar, but he was not looking forward, rather his eyes were fixed to the column of smoke behind them. The longship cut through the waves easily, even without all of his attention devoted to steering the craft. Arnarr had spent years upon the sea, many of them in control of ships just like this. He did not need to look ahead of them, not with a lookout on the prow to alert him of any obstacles or enemies. He was steering by the feel of the wind upon his skin, the shifting of the ship beneath his feet.

The ship they were aboard was one of three in the small fleet of Bjorn Magnussun, a Viking known for his raids throughout the isles upon the edge of the world. This was Arnarr's first raid under the jarl's banner, and after what he had seen it was likely to be his last in the man's service. Images of babies being tossed into the air to be caught upon spears, men's backs sliced open and their lungs splayed out over their arms and old men taunted by a circle of warriors, toyed with and bled, filled his mind. Arnarr had seen acts such as that sporadically, but never so much of it in one place at one time. It made him sick. The people that they had killed were lesser then they, but to Arnarr that did not mean that they had to be toyed with and tortured.

His eyes moved then to the leather tent that they had erected around the mast. It's sides were lashed down to the railings along the ship to hold it in place and provide cover for the human cargo stored beneath it. Such precautions had been necessary because so many potential slaves had been needlessly slain. Arnarr had joined the expedition because of the promised profits, but he had seen many of the people in the village they had sacked slain for no other reason then sport and perverse pleasure. Danes... the men he had gone viking with, they sickened him. They had no sense for business, no honor worthy of a true warrior.

He knew full well that there were other members of the ships crew that felt as he did; there were the two Swedes, Sten and Stig, a Frisian named Anso and a Jute named Aelfric. Anso was one of the few members of the crew Arnarr considered as a friend, and it was the diminutive Frisian who had convinced the other non-Danes to stick with he and Arnarr, to focus on rounding up prisoners rather then taking part in the rapes, killings and tortures. Hell, if Arnarr had his way, the Danes would not see a speck of silver from the sale of the slaves.

Arnarr's thoughts were disturbed as a large just of wind came up, followed by a loud crash of thunder. His eyes moved to the horizon, to a storm that was coming in. For the first time in hours, his lips turned upwards slightly. "Furl the sail! First group to the oars!" The men on the ship began to move, two of the smaller ones shimmying up the mast while others moved to secure cargo and the like.

It was as these actions were being undertaken that he noticed a group of Danes moving under the tent. Arnarr's eyes narrowed. What were they up to? It was then that he heard something impacting flesh and followed by a woman screaming. Arnarr looked over to Aelfric, speaking quickly, "Take the oar for me." The Jute rose and from a nearby bench, taking the oar. That allowed Arnarr to move quickly down the boat. He passed by Sten and Stig, motioning to the large men to follow after him.

As he moved under the tent he caught sight of a group of men gathered around a figure that was curled between two of the benches, pressed up against the gunwale. Arnarr knew all to well that the Danes probably had other things in mind for the young woman. "What in the name of Thor is going on here!?" One of his hands came to rest on the hilt of his short sword as he glared at the six men. Arnarr was one of only three men to carry swords, the other two standing behind him. In a Viking crew a sword was seen as a major indication of station, and Arnarr carried a short and a longsword.

All of the Danes turned to face him, all of them with scowls on their face. He saw that four of them wore the cross of Christ. Glaring at them he spoke slowly, "You did not have permission to leave your benches." One of them, a man named Gunar, stepped forward, "You cannot deny us this! They are the spoils! Divide amongst all! You can't..." He did not say another word, because Arnarr's fist hammered into the man's jaw. He was still wearing his metal reinforced leather gauntlets, so instead of his fingers cracking, it was Gunar's jaw that gave way.

As the Dane sprawled back the others moved forward, but the sound of blades being unsheathed filled the air, and they stopped. Arnarr stood there, his face beat red with anger, "Nobody will touch the captives, understood? I am the coxswain!" He looked to the men and spoke lowly, "Leave your cloaks. Take your places on the benches." The men hesitated, then did as he had told them, even Gunar. He began to toss the cloaks to the captives, saving the best for the younger woman they had hit. He looked to Sten and Stig, speaking quickly, "Watch those six. They are to row until they pass out, understood?" The men nodded and then moved off, then he turned back to her. He knelt, gently laying the cloak on her, speaking softly, and brokenly, in her language, "Stay warm... storm is strong..."

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan’s eyes widened as the men approached, their attire and brutish manner only serving to frighten her more than she already was. The men surrounded her, glowering, glaring. She didn’t like the way they looked at her and suddenly she felt her stomach begin to churn. Just then, one of the men slapped her hard, yelling at her in a language she didn’t understand. Trembling, cowering, the man struck at her again causing her to scream. Seemingly angered by her reactions, he picked her up and pressed her into the hard, unforgiving wall. She knew she’d be bruised further from this and from the way the man pressed up against her, she knew other parts would soon be bleeding as well.

Again, Tiernan cried out, terrified of what was to come. She was far from stupid. She’d seen what they’d done to her friends and loved ones back in her village. The things they did. The things they… took.

Sobbing, Tiernan let out yet another scream and as she did, the man was suddenly off her. She crumpled to the floor, trembling and crying a bizarre mix of both fear and relief trying to consume her whole. As she looked up to see what had happened, she saw a few more men suddenly joining in the circle that surrounded her, trapping her. Only these men were… stopping the others? It was difficult to tell since she couldn’t understand them, but it was clear that the one man was angry, his mere presence causing the man who’d been holding her, pressing his body against hers, to release her in a sudden instant.

Swallowing, Tiernan glanced at all the men standing above her. They were strong, fierce and she knew any one of them could snap her neck if they so chose. Snap her neck or take her virtue, whichever it was they preferred. Still shivering, she clutched her knees to her chest and watched the men yell back and forth at each other until finally the one man, the one whose sudden presence caused everyone pause, punched one of the barbarians in the jaw.

Tiernan let out a loud gasp as the large man went down, sprawled on the floor like a beast who’d been put in its place. She then looked up at the man who’d done the job, the one who’d saved her from a fate she was happy had not befallen her, whether it had been intentional or not. Just then, he shouted out once more and suddenly everyone, herself included, were given the fine cloaks the men had all been donning. The gesture surprised her, taken her off guard slightly. Looking up at the man, she wasn’t sure what to think or feel.

Kneeling beside Tiernan, the strange man spoke into her ear as he wrapped the cloak about her slim yet shaking body. “Stay warm… storm is strong…”

Tiernan nodded as she held tightly onto the cloak. “Thank you, sir,” she spoke, her voice faltering a little as she did. “I owe you my life. My virtue.”

Tiernan looked into the man’s eyes and placed a cold, delicate hand upon his cheek. Still frightened, but so thankful for what he’d done, she leaned toward him and gently pressed her lips against his cheek. His skin was rough, no doubt hardened and chiseled from the living the life of a warrior. But she wondered how a man such as he, one who obviously had some sense of moral compared to the rest, came to be with such a crew. She wondered if she’d ever learn how or why… but she was getting ahead of herself. She needed to focus and figure out how she was to get home. If she was ever to get home.

“I wish I could repay you, sir. But…” Tiernan’s voice trailed. “I have nothing now. Nothing of value to offer.”

Just then, Tiernan bit her lip and averted her eyes. There was one thing she could give him, but the thought of doing so terrified her. The only thing of value she had left was her virtue. And though, if she offered, she knew he could very well take it. But that didn’t mean he’d value it as she did, truly see it as the gift it would be in her own eyes.

Looking back up at the man, Tiernan then added, “I’m so sorry, sir. You seem a worthy man, I truly wish that I did.”

Again, Tiernan gently caressed the man’s cheek and then pulled it back so that she could better hold onto the cloak. Cuddling deeply within it, she wondered what would become of her now. Now that this man had altered the fate that had seemed so inevitable only moments ago.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr should have gotten back to the steering oar, but for some reason he lingered after he had spoken to her. There was something about the way she was holding herself now, looking at him... She spoke to him soon after he had wrapped the cloak around her. Her speech had been a little broken, but Arnarr had understood most of what she had said, well, he thought he had. He nodded and was about to say something about thanks being unnecessary, that he wanted her to be well when they reached port. After all, a healthy slave fetched a higher price at market.

But before he could even speak, she did something completely unexpected. He was confused as he watched her reach out, but he did not turn or flinch away. Her hand was cold, but not as cold as the wind outside of the leather tent. In fact, compared to what he had just been standing in, her touch was warm, inviting. But that was quickly followed by an even more unexpected action; a kiss placed upon his cheek. Her lips had been soft, warm, and he found his heart racing a little bit faster from the intimate contact.

His eyes locked onto her face, her eyes. She had thanked him, thanked him for saving her... virtue? Yes, that had been the word. The use of the word was, odd, at least to him. In his culture virtue was something that warriors displayed in battle, by their actions. But the context she had use the word in was foreign to him. It seemed to imply virtue of another kind, one that Arnarr was unfamiliar with. It was then that he noticed something around her neck, a symbol that seemed to be encroaching more and more on his world; the cross. Might this have something to do with their beliefs?

He knew all to well that the Christians extolled a different set of morals, or at least they professed to. More often then not he had seen many of them act worse towards their fellow man, especially to non Christians. So many of them seemed to espouse a certain set of beliefs, but did not actually follow them. At least his gods did not pretend to be what they were not; they were violent, lustful, vengeful... human. But she had spoken of a virtue, something that seemed that she was supposed to have innately.

Regardless of weather or not he understood what she was speaking of, he could see that she was, indeed, thankful. That was undoubtedly the most important thing, at least in his mind. It was then that he began to realize something as he looked at the young woman before him; she had done something that no slave had ever managed to do, she was breaking through the barrier he had made in his mind.

When she spoke again, saying she would repay him, but that she had nothing, he shook his head. Arnarr was silent for a moment, trying to find the words, then spoke to her, "You are my... charge. My responsibility. I will provide." The only reason he knew some of her language was because his teacher had been a slave from the isles. The dialect was different, but close enough, for Arnarr to understand most of what she was saying.

He noticed how she had averted her eyes after the last time she spoke and wondered what she was thinking about. She seemed to have a conflict within herself, one he did not have a window too. After a few moments of silence she spoke again, apologizing again for not having anything to give him. She caressed his cheek once more, then withdrew her hand. Arnarr stayed there, looking at her, then reached out, one of his index fingers slowly caressing her cheek. He spoke then, his words coming out slowly, yet firmly, "You are mine. I will care for you."

Having said that Arnarr rose. He had a duty to see too; to get the ship through the storm. He looked down at her, speaking, "Cover yourself, stay warm." He pointed then to the holes in the gunwales where the oars normally went, "Stay away from those, on a bench." That said Arnarr turned away from her. He strode back to the back of the ship then, taking hold of the oar once more. Already the waves were larger and the wind was beginning to whip up more. Arnarr turned the prow of the longship into the wind, smiling. This was something he lived for, the challenge, the thrill. He could see from his position the men he had forced to sit without cloaks, could see several of them shivering already. If they died, he wasn't sure if he really cared. They had picked the wrong day to cross him.

"On my mark," he yelled loudly in Danish, "Row! Row!" His cadence was taken up by the crew and, soon enough, they were all calling it out and rowing as they called it out. The storm was vicious. Arnarr stayed at the steering oar, guiding the ship through the waves. Throughout it all his voice was steady, unwavering as he called out orders over again and again. The storm lasted hours and, by the end of it, many of the crewmen were exhausted.

Those that Arnarr had stripped of their cloaks had collapsed, all but one, a younger large lad who had the attitude of a farmer more then a warrior. The young man slumped when Arnarr ordered the oars stored and a hot meal prepared. He walked forward, passed the limp, lifeless form of the man who's jaw he had broken. Two others were in an identical condition. Arnarr put his hand on the young man's should and spoke softly, "This is a lesson. There are honorable actions and unhonorable ones. The gods have chosen to see you through this, to test your strength. That is because you have not yet dishonored yourself in their eyes." The younger man looked up at him, speaking softly, "I am your man sir." Arnarr nodded and smiled, "Get some food and sleep, we will discuss that later."

He turned away then as his men began to see of those that were dead. He ducked under the leather tent, checking on the prisoners. It was then that he came to her, her curled up form. He squatted down next to her, speaking softly, "Food coming soon... are you well?"

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan licked her lips and nodded as the strange man with the peculiar accent, the one in which she owed her life, spoke to her. She found his voice oddly soothing despite her circumstances and the terror she found herself surrounded by. Focusing on him, his face, it made all that was frightening disappear. She didn’t quite know why and couldn’t even come close to explaining it. It just was and given everything she’d been through, she wasn’t about to question that. Instead, she decided to follow her instincts and accept the strange sense of comfort he offered her, whether it was his intention or not to do so.

As Tiernan held the man’s gaze, she went over his words to her in her head. He’d told her plainly that she was his, his responsibility. That he’d care for her. As she continued to look into his eyes, she believed it. In her heart, she knew she had to. His voice had been so very sincere. And his eyes… Oh those eyes. There were no words that could describe what she was feeling inside. None at all. The one thing she did know and could put words to was that he meant what he’d said. She had absolutely no doubt in her mind about that.

Again, Tiernan licked her lips, swallowing rather audibly as she did so. She felt her breath suddenly catch and the urge to avert her eyes was suddenly so very strong. But, for some reason, she had the feeling that he wouldn’t want her to turn away. Not in that moment anyway. So, despite the urge, she refused to drop her eyes, keeping them locked onto his. She then gave him another nod, one letting him know that she truly understood and accepted that he’d take care of her now, that she trusted him with her life. Her virtue. Her everything.

At that, the man turned away and left. Tiernan just watched him as he walked away, an odd sense of warmth growing deep within the pit of her belly. Wrapping the cloak tighter about her body, she found a spot that was safe based on what she’d been told and huddled there trying her best to stay warm. The air was bitingly cold and the way the ship rocked in the choppy waters was making her tummy feel somewhat ill. She’d been told by her brothers that life at sea took time for the body to adjust to, that it was rough and hard and not for most. Given how she felt, she found herself wondering why she’d doubted their words. More than likely, it was probably her stubbornness, her want to prove her brothers wrong that made her defiantly claim she could manage it if the opportunity to go out to sea ever presented itself. Oh how wrong she’d been!

Cold, body aching, tummy slightly upset, Tiernan curled up underneath the cloak. She dozed on and off for what felt like hours. Eventually, the sound of footsteps reached her ears and she found herself perking up just a bit. Turning her head to glance in the direction of the footfalls, her pale eyes caught sight of the man who’d claimed her as his own. The moment he reached her, she knelt beside her and asked her if she was well along with informing her that soon she’d be given something to eat.

Tiernan nodded and smiled weakly, “I’m all right,” she began, her face pale and giving away the fact that she was somewhat seasick.

Despite that, Tiernan tried her best to stay strong and hide the way her tummy was feeling. This man had already done so much that she didn’t want to worry him, if her being ill would even instill that sort of emotion within him. It was hard to tell, though she hoped there was at least a small part of him that did.

Reaching out and placing a delicate hand on the man’s cheek, Tiernan continued. “Some food would be most kind, sir. Again, I thank you.” She paused a moment, that feeling of comfort growing the longer he stayed near, her sick tummy almost forgotten. Then, without knowing why, she rested her head against his chest for a moment. “I’m most grateful for everything you’re giving me, sir.” Pulling back, she looked up into his face and gave him a smile. Her face turning thoughtful, she added, “You don’t belong with these men.”

Suddenly, Tiernan gasped loudly. She brought her hand up to her mouth and covered it as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. Embarrassment and fear washed over her entire being just then at having spoken so boldly. Though this man seemed worthy and honorable, she was still a prisoner. Surely, she’d been out of line. Oh, she hoped not for she meant what she’d said. She truly didn’t think he belonged. But, it wasn’t because he was strong enough or brave enough or skilled enough. No. It was because in her eyes, he was a true warrior. A true man. The sort everyone else on board the ship should be looking up to, not calling him their equal.

“I apologize, sir, if I spoke out of turn,” Tiernan then said, her voice shaky as her eyes welled with tears. “I didn’t mean to offend, sir. I…” At that, she looked into his eyes once again, desperately hoping to see that he understood. Barely finding her voice, she said, “My name is Tiernan, sir. Tiernan Carney.”

 

[Rivine]

As the storm raged Arnarr had reflected upon what occurred before he had walked away. She had looked at him, gazed at him as if she could actually see him, into his being, who and what he truly was. It had been a little, unnerving, at first, but it had also made him want to protect her even more. Somehow she had gotten him to look at her as something other then just a save. She was... special.

When he approached her after the storm he could tell by her complexion alone that she had seasickness. He had seen many young warriors have it, be hanging over the gunwales vomiting up everything in their gut. Arnarr himself had never been struck by the malady, he was not sure why exactly, but an old warrior of his Jarl's guard had told him that boded well, that a warrior born with good sea legs would invariably be twice as staunch a man on land.

But, for the moment, that did not matter, what did matter was getting her better. The crew had, as was usual, had put the prisoners in the middle of the ship. That was supposed to cut down on seasickness, but it had not seemed to do too much good. As he looked around to the rest of the prisoners he could see, and now that he thought about it smell, that the ploy had not worked, especially in that storm.

As she spoke, answering his inquiry about her, he shook his head slowly. "No, you have the sickness of the sea." But, before he could say anything else, she reached up and placed her soft fingers upon his cheek. For some reason he found his own hand reaching up, holding her hand to his cheek. She was... confusing him. He had had feelings for women before, sure, plenty of farm girls and whores. But she was somehow... different.

His mind drifted away from those thoughts as she spoke again. He listened intently, his mind going over what she was saying, translating it. She said that some food would be good and, and thanked him. That was so curious, that she was thanking him. In all of his years doing this, he had never, ever been thanked by one of the people that he had assisted in taking. Not that he was expecting thanks. He was pulling people away from their homes, their loved ones, everything they knew. Just as he had been...

"You are my charge," he said again softly. Then, seemingly out of the blue, she rested her head against his chest. Arnarr's arms did not move, not initially, but, after a few seconds, he gently wrapped an arm around her. She spoke again, saying that she was grateful for everything he was giving her. "You are mine and I will provide," he reiterated softly. But, for some reason, it was starting to become less about profit for Arnarr. She was different.

She pulled back from him and smiled. Another first. When she spoke once more, saying that he did not belong with "these men" his eyes widened a bit. Had she really just said that? It seemed that she was not only a beauty, but was also quite perceptive. As she gasped and blushed he could tell that she seemed to think that she had misspoken. She looked up at him and spoke, apologizing. Arnarr shook his head as she began to cry, reaching up with his free hand to wipe the tears from under her eyes with his thumb. "No, no apologizing. They are crude and ignorant."

She spoke again several moments later, telling him her name. Arnarr smiled then and caressed her cheek with his thumb, "I am Arnarr." He fell silent for a moment, thinking of the meaning of his name in her language, "It means "warrior of the eagle."" He explained. His name was not a common one, at least amongst the common folk to which he was born, but Arnarr's mother said she had high hopes for her child. He wondered what she would say if she could see him now, wondered what she might say of him to others in the Underworld.

Arnarr hear food being passed around amongst the crew, but he had something else in mind for her at the moment rather then food. He reached for his belt, finding a small ring of keys. He looked to her and spoke softly as he started testing keys on her restraints. "We must have you lay down," he began to explain, " he said softly, "Somewhere flat. It will help the sickness." Arnarr's hands moved deftly once he found the correct key to her restraints. It did not take him long at all to have her unbound.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and then slid the other under her legs. With surprisingly little effort he hoisted her up, held in his arms as if she weighed no more then a small babe. He strode towards the back of the ship, receiving several curious looks. It did not take him long at all to reach the stern. At the rear of the vessel was a small, room, but even that was doing it to much justice. It was under a platform meant to elevate the helmsman so that he could see over the bow of the ship better. The space beneath the platform was about two feet tall, just enough space for someone to fit under comfortably. It was where he stored his gear and slept. He set her down outside it and then flipped up the sealskin cover, revealing the rather cozy little nook. He had several blankets and sealskin cloaks about the space, to keep it warm, dry and a little bit more quiet. He motioned to the space and spoke, "Lay down, flat, and close your eyes. It will help. I will have food brought once you feel better."

It was then that he heard footsteps. Arnarr let out a sigh and reached within the small space, retrieving his swords and belt (which he had taken off before the storm). He rose, slowly, and buckled them on. He turned then to see several members of the crew, all Danes, with rather disgruntled looks on their faces. One of them, a close friend to the ringleader of the band he had disciplined for touching Tiernan, was scowling and spoke up, "So you punished them for trying to enjoy our spoils?! You killed them for having what is theirs by right!?"

Arnarr's eyes were cold as he looked at the other man, "They squandered their spoils by killing the children, other women. They do not deserve anything from the raid. Actually, know that I recall, I remember you flaying a man alive with reins for a horse..." The threat was not very subtle, which was what was needed for the man. His eyes widened and he shut up, not wanting to dig himself into a deeper hole. But the other Danes were not so easily quieted. "You killed our friends! You are going against the ways of the viking!"

Arnarr felt to people stepping off of the platform behind him and felt the imposing figures of the two Swedes taking up position beside him. He looked down at the Danes, his hand resting on his sword. "Look out there!" he said, practically bellowing. The storm had, inevitably, blown them off course, and now they were in the open water, away from any landmarks. "How many of you ignorant sods know how to navigate in open water? How many of you know the lands around here?!" None spoke. "I am the commander of this vessel. If you do not like that fact... feel free to leave at your discretion."

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan felt her body tremble as the strange warrior man so gently brushed at the tears starting to spill down her cheeks. His touch was so tender, so gentle. He could break her in two, but instead he was nurturing her, caring for her. Making sure she was all right. It hadn’t mattered that she’d spoken out of turn and, what’s more, he began to agree with her. He reassured her that she needn’t apologize, that she was correct in her observations. If she listened to her instincts, she would say that he found value in the fact that she both noticed and had the courage to actually say such a thing out loud. Was she mistaken in that thought? Only time would tell, she supposed.

Swallowing, peering into Arnarr’s eyes, Tiernan’s body was still shaking quite noticeably. And not just out of fear. No. There was the seasickness and the bitter cold that were affecting her greatly not to mention enduring the loss of her brother as well as her home. It was all crashing hard against her small body just as the waves were crashing against the ship. She just hoped that she could withstand the onslaught as well as the vessel surely could.

Arnarr continued to speak, his voice soothing, a calm amidst the storm surrounding them all. Tiernan focused on it, finding that it helped ease her stress and make her feel just a bit better than she was. She took in every word he uttered too, putting to memory the meaning of his name and the fact that he seemed intent on getting her to lay down and feel better. It touched her that he seemed to care so much about her wellbeing. He was the only man on the entire ship who seemed to give a damn about anyone. Though, she wondered if the two large men who nearly always flanked his sides did as well. Given that they were very clearly his supporters, she had a nudging feeling that they very well could.

Focusing on Arnarr once more, Tiernan was glad that he wanted to free her from the chains. It warmed her, staying the chill that wanted to consume her soft and tender body. She looked up at him as he finally managed to get all the chains undone. And she couldn’t help but notice that he’d gained quite an audience while doing so, the men straining their necks to see as he finished what he’d started. Biting down on her lip, she suddenly felt a pang of fear for him, for doing something that was most obviously not the norm.

Just then, Arnarr scooped Tiernan up into his arms. Instinctually, she rested her head against his chest as he carried her, his heart beat strong and steady as she listened to it. When he approached the rear of the ship, she caught sight of what looked like a small living space. Gently, she was set down within and on top of several warm and cozy blankets. She looked up into his eyes and gave him an appreciative smile. Without further hesitation, she snuggled deeply within the blankets and laid down per his command. He’d said it would help and she was finding that she trusted him more and more with each passing moment. After all, he’d more than proven his worth and honor plus it was plain that he was very knowledgeable about life at sea.

Once settled, Tiernan closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you, Arnarr, sir.” At that, she heard Arnarr take his leave, the sounds of footfalls gathering close as he backed away.

A bit afraid, Tiernan drew the blankets tightly about her slim body, her clothes tattered and thin, her body sore and bruised. She could hear Arnarr talking to his men, no doubt trying to tamp down the aggressions most of them seemed to be having towards his actions in freeing her. Oh, she was causing him trouble with the others and she didn’t want that for him. He didn’t deserve it. Yes, she was his, his responsibility and charge. But even still. She was a grown woman… wasn’t she?

Tiernan honestly wasn’t sure of herself any longer. Back home she was a girl on the brink of womanhood. Ready and eligible to marry, to start a family. Here, she didn’t know what she was. She was a slave. A prisoner. Regardless, she still knew the difference between right and wrong and knew she was intelligent enough. Surely, she could do something to help Arnarr in his more than likely current predicament. It was her fault, after all.

Laying in silence, covers drawn tightly, Tiernan thought about what she could do to help Arnarr, assuming he even needed her help. Trying to stay still and wondering what the men were actually saying, she began to realize just how exhausted she truly was. Drifting in and out of sleep, she could still hear the men’s voices, feel the rocking of the ship as it moved through the open waters.

Tiernan looked about her and all she could see was vast ocean. The air was so very cold, so very windy. Shivering, she looked out into the distance, straining her pale eyes in hopes to see land. But try as she might, there was nothing. Just more water. Just endless sky. Standing there, she could feel her eyes prickling with tears. She felt so very alone. Just then, there was a loud shout and she felt strong hands grab at her body. Somehow she knew it wasn’t Arnarr who was holding her in that moment. Trying to turn around, she heard a hoarse voice in her ear and at that she was twisted around and struck hard in the face.

Eyes opening, going wide, Tiernan sat bolt up right. Completely unaware of where she was and that she’d been dreaming. Just then, she let out a scream, her face still stinging from the strike she’d received in her dream. Sitting there, she could still hear that voice and those garbled words ringing in her ears. It had been so very real. Trembling violently, she felt scared, alone, so vulnerable. She had no idea where they were, where they were going, what would happen. All she had was Arnarr and she needed him now, needed to hear his voice. Terrified, she curled up into a ball and began to cry softly wishing that day would come soon and that with it, the loss of those horrifying memories of what had happened back at her home, when she’d been first abducted.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts. The young woman, Tiernan, was causing a conflict within him. She was distracting him from his duty. His primary concern should have been the safety of the ship, the men under his command, and yet he found himself worrying more about her, wanting to keep safe and healthy. Even now, as he was facing down part of his crew, he could not help but think of her small form, how she had been shaking, trembling in his arms. She had seemed so frail, and more then anything he had wanted to hold her close, warm her, tell her he would not let any further harm come to her. What was happening?

The threat he had voiced to the dissenters on the boat had seemed to have some affect, after several of the more ignorant members of the group had been informed of the veiled implication in his words. Arnarr knew all to well that he was walking the edge of a sword with these men and probably most of the crew. Undoubtedly they would want to tell Bjorn of his actions, see that the viking lord dealt out swift punishment to his underling. As the group of dissenters broke up Arnarr was already contemplating what he must do. There were several paths before him; submit himself to Bjorn's will (which was likely to end in his death), try to flee next time they made port (which would leave him destitute) or the most radical of all the options, do not go to the port that Bjorn was expecting to meet him at under a pretense so as not to worry those in the crew he mistrusted, then, once at the village, slay those who we disloyal and take the ship for himself. Never had he contemplated betraying an oath, but when he thought of the woman curled up in his sleeping area, it seemed worthwhile.

Arnarr turned his attention to figuring out where they were. There were still many clouds in the sky, which blocked out the stars, making navigation all the more perilous. But he could still see the moon, which would serve as a decent enough navigational aid. It was common knowledge that the moon rose in the east and set in the west, much like the sun. There was no land masses to the west that would give succor to he and the crew, Odin, the only land mass to the west he knew existed was the one they had just attacked. But to the east lay the lands from whence many of the Viking came, along with other isles they raided often. But the storm had pushed them fairly far north, which meant, he hoped, that they would likely come to Shetland, a number of islands that served as a way point for many Vikings, but not Bjorn. Several years ago he had actually raided the islands, earning the ire of the local jarls. That was where Arnarr would take the boat.

It was soon after he came to that conclusion that he heard a scream. He looked to Aelfric, his friend, who had been staying close to the stern throughout everything. Arnarr was tired, having steered the ship through the entire storm, having spent hours at the rudder. Arnarr knew that his friend would except that excuse if he said he wanted sleep, but also knew his friend would see right through the guise. The Jute glanced first to the sleeping space, then to his friend, a knowing smile on his face. "I will tell them you had to rest, after all, you were at the oar all through the storm," Aelfric said, more or less reading his friend's mind. Arnarr nodded and then spoke quickly, "The moon is to the west. Keep it to your back and a man with sharp eyes at the bow. Get the sail open and let the men rest." Aelfric nodded and then stepped by his friend and began to shout orders out to the men of the ship.

Arnarr moved to the small sleeping quarters then. He pulled the heavy skin covering back and moved inside. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but then he saw her, curled into a ball, her small body being wracked by sobs. "I am here," he said softly, reaching out to touch her cheek gently. He quickly took off his cloak, boots, tunics and pants, hanging them up from pegs by the curtain to dry. He reached out to her again, his hand touching her arm, feeling how cold she was. He then touched her clothes, finding that they were still damp. Well that certainly would not do. He leaned over, speaking in her ear softly, "I must take your clothing. It is still wet from the storm and you be sick if you leave it on," he said, his grammar still rough and broken in her language, but he thought he had conveyed his point.

Slowly his hands moved to the bottom of her dress. He began to pull it up with one hand, lifting her with the other. He did not ask her help, instead he undressed her himself, his rough hands grazing the soft skin of her legs, sides and shoulders as he removed the dress. Once it was gone his hands then moved to her undergarments, deftly removing them. Soon she was nude, but Arnarr did not want her chilled. So, as much as he wanted to look over her form, he instead pulled several heavy blankets over her. Then he moved under the blankets with her, pulling her up against his body. being this close to her bare form did excite him, but now was not the time. He needed, first and foremost, to see to her welfare. She was his, his charge.

As his arms wrapped around her he found himself nuzzling her neck. He spoke to her, his words soft, warming, "Let me warm you my Tiernan. Sleep, I will be here." It was then he did something he had never expected himself to do; he pressed his lips to hers softly. "Sleep, you are safe with me," he whispered softly, pulling the blankets tight around them.

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan wasn’t sure how long she laid there curled up and crying. It felt like hours, her eyes so sore, her body so cold. But then she heard a muffled sound, the drape that hid her away from everyone on board being lifted up. Arnarr. She was certain it was him, that he knew she needed him, his comfort.

Turning her head ever so slightly, she saw Arnarr’s silhouette as he entered the small area. Gently, he touched her, looked her over as if inspecting her. His scrutiny didn’t bother her, didn’t embarrass. He was clearly checking to see if she was all right. Healthy, safe. Looking up at him, she blinked several times, her eyes glistening from the tears that still lingered within them. He spoke to her then, explaining how she’d fall ill if she didn’t take off her wet clothes. Being from a coastal village, she understood his concern and agreed with it.

Laying there, Tiernan let Arnarr remove her clothes article by article. Not once did she flinch or try to hinder him from his task. Instead, she let him do what he needed. Though, as he finally came to her most intimate layers, she felt her breath suddenly catch. Deep in her belly, she knew they’d have to go, to be dried out, but that was no help when it came to her modesty. Cheeks flushed, she let her warrior and protector remove the final garments, leaving her naked before his eyes. Naked save the cross she wore around her neck.

Swallowing, her heart starting to race, Tiernan could sense the tension between her and Arnarr. See his arousal. Despite it all, however, he didn’t touch her. He could have taken her, done whatever he’d wanted. But, instead he showed honor, his worth as a man to both look up to and admire. Feeling even safer than before, she didn’t mind as he got into the bed with her, his arms pulling her close, his body pressing against hers.

As they laid there for several silent moments, Tiernan could feel Arnarr nuzzling her affectionately. She had to admit that it felt nice, soothing, so very comforting. Then, as if he knew she needed to hear it, he whispered softly against her ear. Letting her know that he’d keep her warm, keep her safe. Cuddling closer, pressing back against him, she snuggled deeper under the blankets and looked up into his face. Just then, he began to lean toward her.

Tiernan felt her mouth suddenly go dry, her skin break out into goose bumps. And, like that, Arnarr’s lips were brushing against hers. When he pulled away, he told her to sleep, that she’d be safe with him. But his words were almost lost as she felt the scorching heat from where his lips had touched her own. Finally, she found herself nodding and closing her eyes. Though, as she laid there in his arms, she suddenly found her body very aware of his, feeling every hard angle and plane as it rubbed against her soft, milky flesh.

Trembling a little, Tiernan moved closer to Arnarr, her form fitting perfectly and snugly against his own. Arching into him a little, feeling safe and protected, she let out the softest of sighs. Yes, she was indeed his and now, in his embrace, she knew it even more than before.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr had not known why he had felt the urge to kiss her, to place his lips upon her own. He had felt the urge before, but only a rare handful of times, when he had felt a connection to a woman beyond the physical. There was something about her that called to him, made him want to protect her, hold her, be there for her. He did not know what it was exactly, but there was... something. He had heard of the term love before, had heard it espoused in epic poems sung by bards from the isles. But was this love? He was unsure. All he knew was that he wanted her as his, wanted no harm to come to her.

He could feel her body arching back into his, her soft skin pressing against his rough hide. Arnarr's body had been toned from years of combat and life on the sea, but it also showed the scars of that life. His skin was weather beaten and rough, scars from well over a dozen wounds still showing. He had lived his life as a man of war, and that was plain to see and feel by his body.

Hers on the other hand told an entirely different story. He could feel how he skin felt soft, remembered her fingers on his cheek. Undoubtedly she had helped her parents with their trade, whatever it was. But she was still soft and supple, something that Arnarr had not felt in far to long. And she was his. He was her master, she his property, his slave. She no longer wore the chains, but for some reason he expected that there were still restraints on her, emotional ones. She seemed to realize that he was not going to release her, sell her or discard her. She was his.

As he pulled her closer, on of his hands came to rest over her stomach. Arnarr could not help but slowly drag his fingers over her soft skin, still pressed against her. He inhaled slowly then through his nose, taking in her scent. She smelled like the sea, of course, but there were still subtle hints to her home life; the faint smell of cloves, of meat, fire. But beneath all that was her scent, the smell of a woman, of his woman.

When Arnarr had come to the sleeping cove he had been exhausted, his body weary from the battle against nature's forces. But now those aches and pains were forgotten. What mattered was her, warming her, seeing her tears gone. None would inflict pain on her, ever again, not while he was breathing.

Arnarr found himself nuzzling her once more, his beard rubbing against her soft skin. Already he was finding his mind filled with thought of her. Her small supple body pressed against his own seemed so inviting. But the time just did not seem right, for either of them. She had endured much, and both of them needed to rest. It could wait, but soon that hunger would need to be sated. He kissed her cheek and pulled her as close as he could, closing his eyes to let sleep claim him.

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan felt safe in Arnarr’s embrace. The way he held her, nuzzled her, all of it gave her the comfort she sorely needed right then. And oh was she ever grateful for it! Nestling close to his rough body, she felt something stir deeply within her belly, something she’d never felt before. She felt warm, almost… sensitive. It was as if all her senses were on high alert and for some reason focusing on the man who held her now in his bed. For a brief moment, she wondered if her life hadn’t been turned upside down, if she’d ever have been able to sense such things from Collin. Almost immediately she knew the answer.

No.

Eyes closed, feeling safe and relaxed, Tiernan finally let sleep claim her once more. Only this time, her dreams weren’t plagued with nightmares or ghastly images of what had happened. Instead, she had thoughts of Arnarr filling her mind. She could see his face, feel his lips touching hers. His hands. She could feel them as they grazed her soft skin, his so rough compared to her own. She wondered what they would feel like if they’d caressed her more. Further. Just then, she let out a tiny gasp as she slept, her cheeks reddening, body shifting a bit as she dreamed more about the man she belonged to.

Tiernan looked into Arnarr’s eyes. Eyes that were intense, telling her plainly that she was his and no others. As she stared into them, she found herself wondering if he’d looked at her that way earlier when they’d both been awake. Just then, her breathing began to quicken, her heart beating faster, louder. Again she gasped and again she felt his hands upon her skin. She felt hot and alive, sensations she’d never been aware of before threatening to take over and make her act and react on instinct. Surely, her brothers would scold her if they could see her now. See into her mind.

But they weren’t there. Her family was far away now. And… Liam was dead.

Shaking the dark memories away, Tiernan focused on Arnarr once more. He was doing something to her, awakening something she didn’t understand, had never felt or experienced. She wondered if he was aware of this, if this was his plan or something else entirely. Oh, she was a silly girl. A prisoner on board a ship. Wasn’t she? She didn’t entirely know. And strangely, she didn’t entirely care so long as Arnarr was there and she by his side. He was her protector now, her everything.

Just then, Tiernan’s eyes went wide. Her body was hot and she could feel her cheeks burning as she laid there for a moment in silence. What was happening to her? What was she feeling? There was an ache between her legs, he skin sensitive to the touch of Arnarr’s hands as he held her. Embarrassed a little, she let out another gasp and shifted. As she did so, the ache only grew so she clamped her eyes shut. Something was happening and she didn’t know what. Trying to calm down, she turned a little and looked at the man holding her. As she looked at him, she wondered what he was thinking. What he was dreaming.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr allowed sleep to claim him once he heard her breathing calm and become even, proof that she was sleeping. The darkness claimed him, leaving the memories of the day behind him. His body relaxed, but his arms kept her close, wrapped around her. Her warmth was inviting, comforting even, to him. The sea held many sources of excitement for a man, battle more, but neither of them could hold as many intimacies and excitements as a woman could.

Soon dreams came to him. Arnarr's mind was filled with images. Often he dreamed of sailing, of fighting, but not tonight. Tonight his dreams were of a different nature entirely; for they were all about her. Had he been awake he would have pondered the images and emotions that were elicited from his mind, from their proximity to one another. But he was not awake, so his body was free to react as it wanted. And react it did.

As he lay next to her his mind began to wander in his dreams. He had images of her under him, her face contorted in a look of absolute bliss. Then there was an image of her pressed against a stone wall, his hand to either side of her, her bare body quivering against the cold stone. Image after image shot through his mind, each one more titillating then the last. By the images were not the most exciting part, not to his mind; the sounds, that was what was exciting him most. The imagined moans, the gasps, the sounds of impact from their union.

Suddenly he snapped out of his dream state as he felt her shifting. Arnarr's eyes opened and he looked down to see that she was looking up at him. He smiled then, a hand slowly sliding up her body to cup her cheek. He gazed into her eyes, wondering why she was awake. It was then that he began to realize his body's reaction to her presence. He had firmed a bit, was brushing against her leg.

It was then that he began to realize something else; her body was hot, her cheeks flushed. His eyes locked upon hers, one of his hands moved to her butt, brushing against the bare skin. He continued to look into her eyes, seeing something that he could not exactly place. But he knew what he wanted, what he yearned for; her. He bushes his nose against hers, looking into her eyes as he spoke softly, "My Tiernan...." He pulled her closer, pressing his hips to hers, letting her feel his excitement. "Say yes and I will make you mine entirely..."

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan looked up into Arnarr’s face. His eyes were closed and she couldn’t help but wonder what sorts of things he was dreaming. She knew where her own thoughts had gone and they had woken her feeling hot and a little embarrassed. And then there was the strange ache she felt between her legs, an ache unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Swallowing, shifting slightly, she let out a tiny gasp.

Suddenly, Arnarr’s eyes flew up. Immediately, Tiernan felt her breath catch, her heart stop. He was awake and… Shifting a bit more, she felt it. She felt his arousal. It was pushing against her thigh, letting her know exactly where his thoughts and dreams had gone. But were they of her or… of another?

Trembling ever so slightly, Tiernan’s questions were silently answered. Arnarr reached a hand up to touch her face. The caress was gentle, a promise that no harm would befall her. She knew it, she believed it. No one could persuade her to think otherwise. Gazing back, her heart beating once more, her lungs working, she licked at her lips. Just then, she felt his other hand reach down along her body, shivers working their way along her spine as he touched her. Finally, his hand rested on her backside.

“My Tiernan…” Arnarr suddenly spoke.

Tiernan felt her tummy flutter with nerves at the sound of her name passing over Arnarr’s lips. He called her his. And she was. She knew it so wholly and completely and it frightened her. How was this happening? What did it mean?

“Say yes and I will make you mine entirely…” Arnarr then added.

Trembling a bit more, Tiernan reached a hand up and rested it against Arnarr’s cheek. As she did so, she pressed her body more firmly against his. In doing that, she felt the ache between her legs scream out. Without thought or reserve, her body suddenly just reacted. She arched against him and let out a tiny noise indicative of her own arousal, though she didn’t quite know what was going on.

“Arnarr, I…” Tiernan’s voice trailed. She could feel his hands on her body, loved how they felt. Her body was screaming for more, to be touched and explored. It wanted this man. And only this man. “Yes, Arnarr… I’m yours…”

The words escaped Tiernan’s lips before she had a chance to think more on them. She was Arnarr’s. She’d known it since the moment he’d saved her from those men. But he was a warrior. No doubt he’d had other women, had experience. She… had none. She didn’t even understand what was happening to her body as they lay there together, so close, so intimate.

“I… I’m yours Arnarr,” Tiernan said again, her voice a whispery breath. “But, I’m scared, Arnarr. I… I’ve never done this before. And right now, with you, I want this. Please, teach me.”

Tiernan looked up into Arnarr’s eyes. Her own were glistening a little as she pleaded with him to teach her, to take her. She somehow knew he’d understand her plight, would do what was necessary. She was his. And that meant something. She knew it did. Again, she arched against him. Again, she let out another noise of pleasure.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr looked down upon the woman he had chosen as his share of the loot, the woman, he was beginning to realize, that he was not about to sell. She was trembling, why he was unsure, for it could be a myriad of things; she could still be cold, frightened or... excited. In his heart he found himself hoping it was the latter, wanting her very much to be yearning for him. For some reason this frail woman had inspired desires in him that even the most buxom of whores had never been able too. He wanted her, more then anything he wanted her.

He waited for her answer, knowing that, unlike many men, if she said no to him he would not be able to have her. He had never liked men who had to resort to rape, and he found that having a woman willfully submit to him made him fee more in control, more powerful, then if she had not. For, if she submitted to him, he was not simply taking her body, but her will. Submission, that was what he wanted from Tiernan, to have her give herself to him wholly and unreservedly.

But his answer came not with words. He felt her fingers against his cheek, her body pressing closer to his, arching, a noise full of need issuing forth from her soft lips. She did not have to say anything, not after that. Arnarr knew she wanted him.

“Arnarr, I…”

He arched an eyebrow as she cut herself off, pulling her closer still, his hand squeezing her smooth ass.

“Yes, Arnarr… I’m yours…”

At those words a smile spread across the warrior's lips. It should not have mattered, that is what others would tell him. She was his slave, his property, and should do what he willed. But this made it so much more... intense. His heart was hammering in his chest, his desire growing for her with each passing second.

He found himself leaning close, his lips brushing against her neck, the light kisses soon followed by light nibbles along her soft flesh. He was going to keep her, no matter what, prevent any harm from coming to her. She was his, and he wanted the entire world to know it.

“I… I’m yours Arnarr.”

At those Arnarr growled happily at those words, his tongue flicking against her neck. He had never felt so aroused, so full of need for a woman. He did not know how, or why, but this woman elicited such a heat from within him that he felt like he would burn up if the need for her was not satisfied.

“But, I’m scared, Arnarr. I… I’ve never done this before. And right now, with you, I want this. Please, teach me.”

At those words Arnarr shifted so he could look into her eyes once more. He smiled, his thumb caressing her cheek once more. "I will teach you my Tiernan," he said softly, then leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers in a heated kiss. As he kissed her the hand on her cheek slopped down her side and then moved to his undergarments. With a quick tug he loosened the last barrier between them.

Armarr tugged at them as he rolled her slowly onto her back, pulling them away, removing the last vestige of decency. Gently he opened her legs, pressing his hardened manhood to her, rubbing himself against her aroused sex as he continued to kiss her. She was his, but that was not enough for him, not yet. Arnarr wanted her to need him, to beg for him, to give herself to him in wanton need.

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan wasn’t quite sure what was happening. One moment she was scared and alone, so very cold. The next, she was wrapped in the arms of a strong warrior man whose native language she didn’t understand. How did her circumstances so abruptly change? How was it that this man felt the need to protect and care for her? Make her his? Blinking her eyes, she wasn’t sure.

Though, did it even matter? When Tiernan thought on it, the answer was clear, firm. No. It did not.

Tiernan’s brain told her that she should be terrified, should let out a scream of protest. Beg to be returned to her home, her family. Her people. But as she laid there underneath Arnarr, his gaze intense, his words even more so, she found she could not. She would not. For reasons she couldn’t begin to explain or understand, she knew that she belonged with this man. To this man. Oh, her brothers would’ve scolded her for sure if she so much as uttered such a thing to them.

But they weren’t there. No one was. This was her choice now.

Suddenly, Tiernan realized that Arnarr was naked on top of her. Her body screaming for what it needed, feelings so very foreign that she didn’t know what to do or where to begin. As if they had a mind of her own, her legs fell open, his body slipping between her thighs. His manhood had hardened and she could feel it pressing against her sex, slick with juices of her own arousal. She let out tiny mewling noises as she focused on the sensation of him against her.

Tiernan could tell he was large and that being new she’d be more than tight for him. Would he be gentle? Would he help her through the awkwardness? Would he still want her after he took her virtue? Trembling a little, she somehow knew he would. Trusted he would. Though despite that, she needed to hear him say it out loud, need those words resounding within her ears.

Swallowing, she looked up into Arnarr’s eyes. Silent tears began to spill from her own, slowly rolling down her pale cheeks. Blinking once, she prodded him for the reassurance she needed him to say to her. “You will take care of me, Master?”

Master?

Master? Where had that come from? Why had she said it? Tiernan didn’t know, but for some reason, it seemed the right thing to say. Everything was happening so quickly and she very much wanted to give herself to this man. Her… Master.

“Help me give myself to you, Master,” Tiernan then begged as her legs parted more and her body arched up against Arnarr’s. Her Master’s.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr was pleased as her legs fell open, which he took as a sign of her desire and submission. She wanted him, hopefully as much, preferably more, then he wanted her. He found himself wanting her to yearn for him, to desire his attention and affections over any other man alive. He wanted her as his own, completely and wholly his. To have her when he pleased, to have her in his bed, depend on her and to have her do all of this out of desire for him. That was what he yearned for.

As his manhood rubbed against her he could feel her wetness, her body's eagerness to have him. That knowledge alone was invigorating. But, before he could go on, before he could prepare her, he caught sight of the tears streaking down her face. She spoke then, words that he had not been expecting.

“You will take care of me, Master?”

Arnarr paused, holding himself still against her. She had called him master... but it had not seemed like something a slave would call their owner. The word seemed to have more feeling, as if it was indicative of a far more intimate connection. She wanted his reassurance, to know that he cared.

One of his hands moved to her face, wiping her tears away ever so gently with his thumb. The warrior looked down into the young woman's eyes, knowing full well that this would not be the last time they lay together like this. He spoke softly, his words heartfelt, even if they did not convey exactly what he meant, "I will care always my pet." Had he known her language better he might not have confused the word for slave and pet, but he had.

“Help me give myself to you, Master."

At these words he smiled, leaning over to press his lips to hers in an initially soft, but soon heated kiss. Her legs parted more, inviting, and more then anything he wished to take her, to join them together. But he could not, not yet.

Slowly the hand that had wiped the tears from her face slid down her throat, his fingers grazing her soft skin. It brushed over her chest, briefly skimming one of her hardened nipples. As it moved over her stomach his fingers dragged along her flesh,, scratching lightly. Finally it arrived where he wanted it, her woman hood.

Arnarr's fingers slid over her moistened flesh, parting the eager lips. His thumb found the nub he had long ago learned of, rubbing at it slowly as he spoke to her, his voice heated and full of need, "I will teach you pet. Teach you to want me more and more." His thumb continued to rub at the nub as he spoke, wanting to feel and hear her reacting to it. Then, slowly, he started to slip a finger within her.

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan’s body was writhing against Arnarr’s as strange sensations washed over her. She could feel an intense heat burning between her legs, fluids slowly starting to drip down her legs. What was going on? What was her body doing? She instinctually knew what she wanted and though very inexperienced, she had an idea that her body was wanting to be pleasured. And not just by any man. But by this man. Arnarr. Her Master.

Arnarr let his roughened palms glide along Tiernan’s soft, supple flesh. She gasped the moment his fingers found her nipples. Oh they were so sensitive. Just a brush and she felt her sex gush a little. Slightly embarrassed, her cheeks reddened further and another tiny sound escaped her lips as her body continued to move against him. Moves making it clear that she was in both want and need of him.

Finally, Arnarr’s fingers found Tiernan’s sex. Her breath caught the moment he found her swollen bud. Immediately, she felt another gush between her legs and almost instantly she found herself letting out the softest of moans.

Oh god, her Master was magic. Making her body sing for him and only him.

“I will teach you pet. Teach you to want me more and more.” Arnarr’s voice was soft, but firm. Tiernan could hear the authority and it made her gush yet again.

Instinctually, Tiernan tilted her pelvis, thrusting it up ever so slightly so that Arnarr had better access to her most sensitive part of her body. Mewling, gasping, she felt such great warmth engulfing her body. Bucking her hips, her sex so very wet, she let out a loud groan. It was then that she felt a finger slip within her dampened folds, touching her so intimately and making her wild with desire.

“Master… Master…” Tiernan whimpered. “What are you doing to me?”

Tiernan’s hips bucked against Arnarr’s hand. The feelings were so good, she wanted more. Needed more.

“Master… oh Master…”

Whimpering and moaning, Tiernan’s body broke out into a sweat. Her porcelain skin began to glisten with the heat of her passion for Arnarr, this man who was teaching her how to give herself to him. Her Master.

“I’m so wet, Master… I…” Tiernan’s eyes welled with tears. Her body was reacting so intensely and she could feel her muscles beginning to tighten. She knew this had to be what an orgasm was, what true rapturous pleasure felt like between a man and a woman. Suddenly, her pale eyes went wide and she looked up into Arnarr’s eyes. “Am I going to climax, Master…? I… I…”

Stammering, Tiernan’s eyes desperately searched Arnarr’s. In her question, she wasn’t just asking about what was happening, but whether he wanted her to achieve orgasm. Oh how she hoped so. She didn’t know if she could hold back if he denied her. Surely, it would happen anyway and… what then? So unsure, so lost in the moment, she closed her eyes and waited for an answer as her body began to fall over the edge into receiving its very first orgasm.

 

[Rivine]

Arnarr marveled at the intense reactions of the woman beneath him. He had had women want him before, but the pure raw intensity that Tiernan was reacting with was something new, even to him. Her body was reacting as if he was something it had long craved, yearned for, needed. Just a brush of her nipples rewarded him with a gush from her womanhood, her body writhing even more for want of him. Arnarr was finding her body would yield to his touch, take pleasure in even the softest of caresses, and was finding he liked having such control over her.

That control became even more apparent when he began to play with her soaked slit. She was so moistened from want of him that he could hear the squish of the liquid as his hand teased her sex. Her pelvis was tilting up, her hips thrusting wantonly towards him. Oh, if she had thanked him for saving the virtue of her body before, how much more might she thank him for taking it later? She seemed so keen to be his, so suppliant to their mutual desires, but first and foremost his own.

It was as his finger slipped within her that he was awarded with the most exhilarating response yet.

“Master… Master… What are you doing to me?”

To this Arnarr chuckled, his lips moving down to press and nibble at her neck. He broke away then to whisper into her ear, his voice heated, needful, "I am teaching you. You will yearn for this."

“Master… oh Master…”

Arnarr did not speak in reply, instead he began to thrust his finger within her. Over and over, quicker and quicker. As he did this he began to explore her with his mouth, kissing, licking and nibbling. Soon enough he made his way to her nipples. First he flicked them with his tongue, teasing, before he took one between his teeth, tugging gently. It was about then that she spoke again.

“I’m so wet, Master… I…”

Arnarr chuckled and looked up at her. But it was then that he noticed her tears. He frowned ever so slightly, then reached up with his other hand, shaking his head as he wiped the tears away. "No tears my pet... not now," he said softly, pressing his lips to hers in the most tender of kisses.

She looked up at him then, as he felt her muscles tightening, her eyes wide. Arnarr held her gaze as she spoke.

“Am I going to climax, Master…? I… I…”

He pressed his lips to hers tightly then and began to move his finger within her even more. Breaking the kiss he spoke, his lips brushing against hers as he looked into her eyes, "Yes pet. Let go..." He wanted her to come to her fall for him, to feel the pleasure that he would grant and inflict upon her body night after night, year after year.

So Arnarr's lips moved down to her breasts once more, his lips wrapping around one nipple, sucking at it then taking it in his teeth as he continued to pump his finger within her. He wanted that climax, he wanted her over the edge. The sooner the better, for then he could push her to that brink yet again.

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan had heard some of the other girls, those recently married, who’d talked of such things with hushed voices. Little did they know she’d been listening in, taking in their words of their experiences with their new husbands. She’d often wondered how true their talk had been. Some had mentioned excruciating pain while others had said it was the most glorious experience of their lives. It made her curious as to how it would be when the time presented itself to her. Funny that now that it finally was, it wasn’t with any of the eligible men of her village. It wasn’t with Collin.

“Yes pet. Let go…” Arnarr’s voice whispered as he pulled back slightly.

Her lips still searing from the scorching kiss, Tiernan did as she was told. Her eyes rolled back and she let her body react as it both wanted and needed.

“Oh, Master… I… I…” Tiernan’s body began to shake, her legs spreading even wider as her hips began to buck furiously. “Master… Master…” She repeated the title over and over as she came, her juices gushing and flowing as her sex pulsed out its rapturous rhythm again and again against Arnarr’s hand.

As Tiernan’s body experience the throes of orgasm, she could feel her entire body responding. Her sex was throbbing, her heart beating in time with each wave that seemed to pool between her legs. Her skin felt hot and she knew her cheeks were red, the brightest crimson they’d ever been. As her body took in everything it was feeling, experiencing, she felt Arnarr’s lips against her flesh once more causing her to arch and writhe like some animal in heat.

The moment Arnarr’s mouth found Tiernan’s breasts once more, she couldn’t help herself. Her hands moved upward and found themselves lost in the tangles of his hair. He sucked and licked at her nipple, his teeth tugging on it, making her gasp and groan and… oh, his hand. He was still touching her sex, pumping her hard as her body began to ready itself all over again.

“Master… Master… What is happening to me? Master…” Tiernan’s words were a breathy whisper. Her body was his now, his to control and manipulate. She was at his mercy and she knew it. “Please, Master… I need more. Please, Master…”

Tiernan couldn’t help it. She needed this, needed Arnarr. He knew her body so well, understood it. She was so hot, so wet, so very needy. She didn’t know how he was doing it, only that she didn’t want him to stop. Those women of her village who’d said it was glorious, had been right. She was certain of it. Though, she was sure none of their experiences could ever compare to what she was getting right now with her warrior man, her Master.

“Please, Master, please,” Tiernan continued to beg, her hips moving in time with Arnarr’s hand. “Oh please, Master… more…”

Desperate whimpers escaped Tiernan’s lips as she writhed and bucked. Her breasts were so sensitive, loving the attention they were receiving from Arnarr’s skillful mouth. And her sex. It was dripping, her juices flowing everywhere as her muscles began to tighten all over again.

“Master, I’m going to climax… Master… please, don’t stop, Master…”

 

[Rivine]

Her body began to react, almost the second after he had told her to let go. Her legs spread, hips bucking wildly as she began to call him by his new title over and over. Her climax began to gush over his hand, coating his finger so that he could slide within her even more. She reacted so willingly, her body begging for even more. As his mouth moved to her nipple, he felt her hands entangle in his hair. Arnarr growled a little bit then and reached up, taking both of her arms by the wrist in one of his far larger hands. That done he pinned them to the bed, just above her head, leaving her helpless before him. He was the one controlling her body now, he wanted her to realize that and love it.

“Master… Master… What is happening to me? Master… Please, Master… I need more. Please, Master…”

Arnarr growled again, flicking his tongue briefly against the nipple he had neglected. Having done that he spoke, "You are becoming a woman my pet. My woman. My plaything." But it was her begging that made his desire spike. She was so aroused by his actions that he could not help but want to push that arousal to new heights, make her year to reach those highs again.

“Please, Master, please. Oh please, Master... more."

Her body was writhing so, her womanhood on fire, pulsing and squeezing with his every little effort. If she was not ready for him now, Arnarr doubted she ever would be.

“Master, I’m going to climax… Master… please, don’t stop, Master…”

But stop is exactly what he did when she said those words. Shifting himself, Arnarr pulled the finger from her sex, leaving it empty for the moment. He smiled and trailed the soaked finger up her stomach, circling her nipples, letting her feel the juices cooling on her skin. He leaned over then, flicking his tongue at her nipples, lapping up her juices, all the while looking up at her.

That done he nipped at each of the sensitive nubs, tugging them both a tad. As he pulled away he slid between her legs more, his manhood coming to rest against her hot pussy. He rubbed at it with his head, then, once it was wet, slipped it between her lips. This first thrust would be slowly, to let her become accustomed to his girth and length.

But, as he ever so slowly plunged into her throbbing womanhood, he ran his wet fingers, still coated in her juices, against her lips. "Taste yourself my pet," he said softly, "Taste your arousal, taste what I do to you."

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan couldn’t help but whimper in protest the moment Arnarr removed his hand from her sex. She suddenly felt so empty, her need growing by the second as she mewled for more. Desperate for her sex to be touched and caressed, she moved her hips slightly letting him know she both wanted and needed him at that very moment. It was then that he moved himself between her wide-spread legs, his hardened cock resting against her entrance, so hot, so wet, so needy.

Arnarr rubbed his tip against Tiernan’s entrance, further arousing her, making her wetter than she already was. As he waited, making her whimper and beg for more, he slowly dragged his soaked finger up along her body, tracing her feminine curves until he reached her mouth. Letting his finger push past her lips, she could taste the sweet and sour tang of her juices. Greedily, she licked his fingers clean and as she did so, she could feel him pushing against her, plunging himself deep into her dampened folds.

Tiernan let out a loud gasp as she felt Arnarr reach her barrier and then suddenly push past it. She yelped at the invasion, but her aroused body didn’t take too long to adjust. Her Master had seen to that, had gotten her ready and wet so that her sex would accept him as it was meant to.

“Master… Master…” Tiernan whimpered, more of her juices gushed, her hands still held fast above her head. “Oh Master… I’m yours, your woman…” Whimpering, she began to move her hips up and down Arnarr’s length, him letting her set the initial pace until he knew she was ready for more. “Master… are you claiming me? Are you making me yours, Master?” she then asked amidst groans, her skin glistening with sweat as their bodies moved. “Teach me, Master… teach me, please…” Her breaths were raspy and erratic, her heart racing as she felt her body light on fire. “Claim me, Master… make me yours…”

The world a swirl of colors, Tiernan found herself falling into a place unlike anything she’d ever known. A state of mind she couldn’t begin to describe. All she knew was that Arnarr was at the center of it, him her sole purpose for existing. She never wanted this moment to end and she wondered what more he could teach her, could show her, could make her do. Surely, there was plenty and she wanted to experience it all with him, her Master. Master. Such a word. So very appropriate. She still had no idea why she was calling him that, but it felt right. He was master of her body, her mind, her soul. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him now, wouldn’t try.

“Oh Master…” Tiernan whimpered, her body ignited with a passion she never thought possible. “Please, claim me, Master… please.”

 

[Rivine]

As she opened her mouth for his fingers, Arnarr knew beyond all doubts that, with her, he had a rather unique woman. She was so suppliant, so willing to please, so... perfect. She was like a piece of iron, just waiting to be shaped and then wielded by someone that knew how. Arnarr wanted to both shape and wield her, make her into something that he had only dreamed of, the woman he had always yearned to find.

When he had agreed to go on this expedition, he had only been doing so for the financial payout, but it seemed he had found something far more worthwhile. As she cleaned his fingers he contemplated having her with him, being able to spend nights like this with such a willing and responsive partner. It might have seemed silly, many of the other men would have told him he was a moron, but Arnarr had seen enough and experienced enough to know that a woman like Tiernan was not to be found everyday.

But as he began to slip into her, all contemplations and thoughts of anything else ceased. A groan escaped his lips as he pushed deeper within her. He reached her barrier and, quite easily, pushed passed it. She yelped, but, as he had planned, she was far to aroused to notice the pain that much.

She whimpered out his tittle, again and again, her hips moving up and down against him. She was so eager! Arnarr felt almost like he was home agian, still a youngster tousling around in the hay with a young Geat woman. Things were better in those days. But, with her now, Arnarr was starting to think that the future looked far, far better.

“Master… are you claiming me? Are you making me yours, Master?”

Those words prompted a pleased growl from the warrior. He thrust into her over and over for a few moments, his teeth brushing against her neck before he spoke, his voice husky with arousal, "You are mine pet, mine forever." He still held her hands over her head, very much enjoying having her splayed out under him, waiting for him to do what he willed with her.

Her supplications to claim her and teach her only fueled his desire. Arnarr began to thrust into her faster as her sex seemed to open for him, fitting tightly around him. A groan escaped his lips as he plunged fully within her finally, feeling himself hilted within her womanhood. She was his and Arnarr doubted that he would ever feel the need for another woman as long as he had her.

The muscled warrior pressed his body close to hers, allowing him to thrust deeply within her. He could feel the sweat on her body, her erect nipples brushing against his chest, her small form writhing against his steadily thrust body. He kissed her neck and then spoke, his voice commanding, insistent, "Welcome your master pet... show me you want me..."

 

[darkangel76]

Tiernan’s body was reacting out of instinct now. Letting the pleasure that Arnarr was allowing her to feel and experience drive her to do and say whatever seemed right and came to her mind. She wasn’t sure exactly as to what her warrior man was doing, but he was making her feel things she never thought possible. Things that were making her crave him, making her willing to do anything for more. Things she was certain would make the women back in her village blush the deepest shades of crimson ever to fall upon a female’s cheeks.

Whimpering, gasping, Tiernan’s eyes pleaded with Arnarr. Oh, she needed more. But from the way he held her down, his body so hard and big above her own, she somehow knew she’d have to beg. Despite that, she found herself not minding that at all. In fact, it served to arouse her further and another gush came from between her legs.

“Master… oh, Master…” Tiernan whimpered, her body moving underneath Arnarr’s like a needy bitch in heat.

“Welcome your Master, pet…” Arnarr growled as he kissed Tiernan’s neck, his hips thrusting hard against hers leaving bruises, she was certain. “Show me you want me…”

“Master… oh, Master…” Tiernan mewled as she arched her body against Arnarr’s. Her legs spreading wider for him as she gushed more juices from her throbbing sex. “I welcome you, Master,” she then added through gasps. “I welcome you…”

Obscene squelching sounds began to resonate within the small sleeping area as their bodies crashed harder and harder against each others. The sounds were so wet and loud that Tiernan was sure that Arnarr’s fellow crewmen had to hear the noises, to know what they were doing and how he was working her body. Almost instantly, her cheeks reddened further, the blush working its way down to her taut breasts, nipples standing at full attention.

“Can they hear us, Master?” Tiernan asked as her sex continued to drip with her fluids, soaking her thighs and slicking up her swollen clit. “Do they know?” Panting hard, she suddenly found that it didn’t matter if they could. She was with Arnarr and that was all that mattered in the end. “Oh Master, why am I aching? What is this need?” she continued to ask, knowing that her warrior was the only one who could provide her the answers she needed. “Oh Master, I…”

Just then, Tiernan could feel her inner muscles clamping and clenching down about Arnarr’s thick cock. She was going to orgasm, going to lose it.

“Master, I need to climax… please, Master… don’t stop. Don’t stop this pleasure, Master.” Tiernan couldn’t help but beg. As she did so, she bucked her hips wildly, her thighs so wide giving Arnarr all the access he could ever want and more. “Please, Master… please… I need you so badly.”

Biting down on her lower lip, her legs quivering as her orgasm threatened to consume her, Tiernan began to sob softly. Never had she felt so much nor her body experienced such sensations. The ache between her legs was nearly unbearable and each touch, rough or light, was making it stronger still. She wouldn’t be able to hold back, try as she might, she just couldn’t. All too soon her body was screaming and with it, a scream passed over her lips as she began to have orgasm after orgasm as Arnarr’s body continued to rub against her engorged and sensitized clit.

“Master!!!” Tiernan screamed, her body cumming about Arnarr’s cock so hard and frantically that she felt her legs become drenched with her juices. “I’m yours, Master… just yours…”