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Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 08

By: Tara_Neale



Bjorn put the finishing touches on the sandwich. Pickles, real dill pickles. They were her favorite. He half smiled as he thought how amazing it was: the stuff that you will tell strangers over the Internet. But they were not strangers anymore. They were her husbands.

But not by her choice, he reminded himself as he placed the piece of bread on top of the corned beef, cheese and pickles. It was spread with extra mustard and just a touch of mayonnaise. The way she liked it. Would she even care? Would it make any difference to how much she hated them? 

Hate and love were twins, the light and the dark, his mother had always told him. If she could hate them now, then with the right touch, she could come to love them. Or so his mother had promised. After last night not even he was sure anymore. 

He did not know what had happened between her and Mikael...or even between her and Sven. He honestly did not want to know. Not the details anyway. But what he did know was that cry had woken him from a light sleep. Just as he was beginning to dream that it was him holding her in his arms, kissing her lips, rolling her nipples between his fingers...

Stop it, he reminded himself. This was getting him nowhere. None of this was. Why did Sven and especially Mikael have to ruin this for him? He had waited his whole life for this...for her. While Sven dreamt of fish and making Ægir's Captive a success, while Mikael dreamt of breaking free from their big brother's long shadow and asserting himself as his own man, he dreamed of one thing...coming home to her. 

Of course, he had not known who she was then. But ever since he was a teen, his wife, their wife had consumed his dreams. Sure, he was not chaste, what good would that do them? But other women had always been more about learning to please her than pleasing himself. 

Then he remembered how wide her eyes had gotten last night when they told her their destinies. He had wanted to be the one to spend the night with her then. To hold her and reassure her that it would not be that bad...that despite what society might think, loving three men could be easier than one. Or so his mother had told him. He had wanted to cuddle with her and tell her all about their mother, about their homeland, about the tradition that she was upholding. 

But she had chosen Mikael instead. He was certain that it was because she could sense his reluctance in this plan. Perhaps she thought to find an ally among them. Perhaps convince him to help her escape this fate. She had chosen poorly. Even if he had been reluctant about this plan, Mikael needed Kirsty, needed her even more than he did. And that was saying something.

He admitted it...he needed this woman. Not as Mikael did to care for his child, or Sven to provide heirs, the next generation of fishermen for Ægir's Captive. He needed her love. He needed someone to hold and be held by. And he wanted so much more from this woman than either of his brothers could even imagine. He wanted her soul...and body.

He steeled himself as he walked down the short corridor. He knocked lightly at the closed door. He waited for her to welcome in, tell him to 'come in.' He stood there holding the tray with its sandwich cut into triangles and a can of her favorite soda. And he stood there. Two minutes. Three. Maybe five. Before he realized that the invitation he hoped for was not going to come. He sighed heavily; was that prophetic? He hoped not. 

He thought about knocking again. But what would be the point. She had closed the door to them. Maybe that was even to be expected. He tried to put himself in her position. Everything that she had known, everyone, had been stolen from her. He remembered all his mother's advice...you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, she had said. So why had the woman chosen Mikael's vinegar over his honey last night?

He turned the knob and pushed open the door, half expecting his way to be blocked. Chairs or shelves or anything she could find blocking the entrance to the captain's cabin. But the door swung open easily. He saw her sitting in the corner of the bed. Her legs were drawn up almost to her chin as she stared out the tiny portal to the waves that almost reached its edges. Her arms were wrapped tightly about her knees as if she were hugging herself. Did she not realize that was what he longed to do more than anything? Hold her, keep her safe? 

When she finally turned towards him, he saw the moisture glistening in her eyes. For a moment, he wished he could turn back time. He regretted all they had done...the way they had captured her. Then he remembered the most important of their search perimeters...someone who was not happy in the life that they led, that had few truly deep connections. 

The truth was that while she loved her career...that was all she had had in her old life. Her job. And between Monika and the babies they would give her, she would have plenty of things to occupy her. She had given her heart and her time to another man...tried the traditional relationship...and been hurt by it. Saddest of all, her parents, her friends were just straw men in her life. She shared no deep bond with them. She had admitted time and again how shallow her existence was, how alone she felt, how she longed for something simpler, something more. 

Bjorn knew...they could offer her all of that. Given a chance they could make her happy and in return she could make them happy. That was how this was meant to work, his mother told him. Showed him every day of his life. This bond could give her the sense of belonging that she craved. He just knew it. For now though, all he had to offer was a sandwich. Some conversation. And perhaps friendship.

"I made this for you," he said almost shyly as he held out the tray. "Corned beef with cheese, pickles and mustard. The way you like it." He knew he was rambling. He probably sounded like some love sick teenager. That was not how he wanted to come off. How he wanted her to see him.

She nodded and took the plate off the tray. Bjorn considered returning around and running back to the kitchen to hide. This was not going the way that he expected. None of it had gone as he hoped and planned for all those years. He had been prepared for Sven to be the first. That was as much a part of this tradition as kidnapping. But he was certain that after his eldest brother's 'vinegar,' she would turn to him for honey. Instead she had chosen Mikael...and that ate at his gut. 

The woman...Kirsty...he reminded himself. When had she become just...the woman? That was how Mikael saw her, perhaps even Sven. But to him, she had always been Kirsty...the one. Was he doubting that now?

He watched as she looked the sandwich over. Did she think that he would drug her? Then she smiled weakly up at him and muttered, "Thanks."

It was as close to an invitation as he was likely to get anytime soon. He took it as such and sat next to her on the bed. He saw the marks again. The red and purple teeth marks were beginning to be tinged with yellow and green this morning. Of course, he had seen them yesterday when they were fresh...after Sven had taken her. He looked for other marks, new ones, from Mikael but he saw none. That should have been a relief to him. But remembering her cry that had rent the dark night, it was not. 

It was not that bruises or marks bothered him as such. This was part of who they were. Dominants. It would always be a part of their dynamic with her. That was why they had chosen to look specifically for a submissive on a kink site. They were not as much forcing this woman to things that were not to her choosing. They were exploring her fantasies as well as their own...or so he assured himself. 

No, it was not the marks themselves. It was that they were not his. Not his marks. He frowned as she took another bite of the sandwich. Not that his kinks would leave these types of marks upon her alabaster skin. No, he wanted so much more from her than a few bruises here and there. He wanted to own her. Own her body and soul. The games he liked were in her head...mind fucks.

Challenges to test the depths and breadth of her submissive nature. Breathe play when he held her very life in his hands. Orgasm control where she begged and pleaded for release that he alone could give her...or not. And the ultimate...potty training where she must ask his permission even to piss. Oh no, his needs from this woman was for so much more than a few simple bruises that were already beginning to fade. He wanted her all...her mind, her heart, even her spirit.

But not to crush as some did. He wanted to set her free. As a child on one of their trips with his brothers and their fathers, his mother had taken him to an aviary. He must have been seven, maybe eight. But he would never forget watching the hawk show. They had sat on hard wooden benches. He must have asked Petrine two dozen times...'when will it start?' Then the air above his head stirred and was rent with a cry unlike any he had ever heard. He watched as a brown splotch circled high above them, occasionally swooping low then seeming to soar straight up again. He did not dare move.

Then a man's voice joined with the hawk's cries. He told of the birds, how they were endangered, their desire to be free, but how the world in which they lived was encroaching, threatening all of that. How this magnificent bird, who flew back to perch upon his gloved hand was safer as his captive than she could ever be in the wild. 

That hawk was his Kirsty. Her need to care, to submit to a man, no longer fit this modern world. She could not find the fulfillment she sought in traditional relationships, or social media 'friendships,' not even in the career that she loved. No, she needed a depth of connection that only he...and his brothers...could provide. Only in that captivity would she truly be safe to take to flight, to soar higher than any of them ever could. And always come back to land safely in arms.

He smiled and sighed as she finished the last bite of her sandwich. That kind of connection took time and trust. It could not be rushed, he reminded himself as he opened the can of soda and passed it to her. She took a long swig then wiped her hand across her mouth. He chuckled...it was something he would do. Unmindful of polite etiquette or rules, he was who he was and so was she. That was what he loved most about her. And something he never wanted to change. 

When she heard his laughter, her eyes met his and she belched. Not some polite burb followed by an 'excuse me,' but a noisy exclamation. "In some cultures that is the highest of praise, I am told," he smiled at her. It was her turn to laugh then. The sound washed over his soul like rain in the desert. 

"Thank you. It was very good," she said as her eyes dropped back to the duvet that covered her naked body. 

"You are most welcome," he replied. "Would you like me to get you another shirt to wear?" 

She might not realize it. He had thought that his brothers would not either, although the violence with which Mikael tossed the torn other one, said that he had underestimated them. The truth was that his shirts were the beginning of it. The beginning of her training. As his slave. She was dependent upon him even for the clothes she wore. Ironically, his shirts also covered his brothers' marks upon her fair skin. They were his mark of ownership and whether he realized or would admit it or not that was what had truly bothered Mikael. Not that he had any intention of stopping.

She nodded her head slowly and whispered, "If you don't mind, though I cannot promise it won't end up in shreds like the other one. Your brothers seem to have some perverse need to keep me naked. Maybe they think I can't run away then. Although there is not much chance of that since we are in the middle of the channel, is there?"

He chuckled again. Sven had been right...she was easy to talk with. But then again he had known that from all the emails they had exchanged. Her intelligence appealed to him as much as her beauty or her submissive nature. "More than likely they just like seeing your hot body," he joked. "But no need to worry about that. You are mine tonight. And I have no objection to you wearing my shirt."

She frowned, "But I thought that Sven said I could choose?"

Bjorn steeled his expression. He would not let her see how much her words hurt him. What was her problem? Did she really prefer them to him? Did bites and bruises, rope and gods only knew what else really appeal to her more than a pleasant evening of conversation with him? What was wrong with him?

Then it dawned upon him. Perhaps his brothers were easier, because with them she could be safe in her hatred? Perhaps what scared her most was that she might actually come to like him...to love him? Perhaps pain and bondage were easier to give than her true submission? But she would discover he was a man of patience. He did not want to take...he wanted her to give. 

"He said you could choose who shared the bed...last night. Today is a new dawn. New rules. My rules." He watched her brow crinkle in a frown. He saw her sweet mouth that he wanted to kiss so badly open as if she wanted to argue. Then it closed again. 'Let the games begin,' he thought as he rose from the bed. "I will get my shirt for you now. Then I must get back up on deck. You may join me if you wish. It is not raining this day so with my shirt and your coat you should be all right." She just nodded as he gathered the plate and empty soda can to put them on the tray. 

If Mikael thought that a torn shirt would get to him, if she thought running scared would save her...they were both wrong. He was playing this game to win. Because the prize...her love and submission...was a treasure more valuable than a dozen Ægir's Captives. He would not run. He would not take. He would wait patiently until she gave that which could never be forced. And he would win...he would have it in the end. Have all of her. Just as she would have all of him. It was how things were meant to be...with your one.

***

Kirsty sat on the chair that Bjorn had gotten for her. Her tablet lay next to her. Honestly, she has tried to get a signal. Perhaps message her parents or connect with a friend on social media, but this far out to sea that was as futile as she had suspected it would be. Instead all she had to do was read the books on it...the crazy books about ménages and BDSM that had gotten her in this fucked up situation to begin with.

And think. She had way too much time to think right now. Think about her life up to this point. Did anyone even notice she was gone? It was Saturday now. So work would not notice her absence for a couple of days. What would happen when she did not show up Monday morning? Of course, they would call her mobile phone and the house? But what happened when she did not answer? Would they try her parents, who were listed as her emergency contact? Or after taking holiday time on Friday would they just assume she was too hung over to even bother calling in? 

It was certain that her parents would not notice her missing if they did not call. She only saw them once a month for the perfunctory brunch usually in Chelsea or Kensington. That had been last Sunday so unless work or her flat mates called them, they would not even notice her absence for weeks? Then again even as a small child she had more often than not been invisible to her busy consultant parents. 

And her flat mates? What of them? She and the two other young professional females that shared the fashionable flat just a couple of blocks from the hospital where she worked had never been particularly close. Well, the two of them were close, but neither paid her much attention. How long before they noticed that she had not come out of her room to cook? Would they bother to knock and check up on her? Or would it not be until it was her turn to clean the communal areas that they noticed her missing? When was that anyway? Next weekend? The following?

In a world where she had close to a hundred 'friends' on a social media site...no one would miss her for days. And by then? Where would she be? Safely ensconced in this mysterious place that these guys called home? How long before the police would check out her computer? Would they bother? 

She was an adult. She was just getting over a devastating break –up. Would everyone just assume that she had left of her own freewill? That she needed some time to get away and think? Would anyone care? Besides her kids...they would notice she was gone. It would bother them...starting over with a new person. But most of them had no voice. How could they tell anyone that Miss Kirsty would never leave...not without saying good-bye?

It was sad and depressing. The sum total of her existence. She watched the waves lapping at the edge of the boat as the men worked together to haul the heavy nets up, sort the fish, throwing back the weak and small and pushing the others into the hold below. Was that all she was...a weak and small fish that no one could be bothered to care about? That could just disappear without anyone noticing?

Then she thought about him...about his laughter and those eyes. He would miss her. Something told her that if in the crazy darkness of her mind that told her none of this mattered, that she should just run and jump into the icy cold waters and end it all. That she did not matter to anyone anyway. Something told her that he would risk everything to follow her. To save her. 

But save her from what? And why? That scared her most. Why her? Why had they chosen her? Sven had been safe. He wanted to possess her body. To mark her as his. She could handle that. Honestly, some warped part of her craved that madness of passion and possession. Mikael, she thought she could manipulate. Could work to her advantage, but that had backfired. But even then as he tried to control her, she had found her safe place. Used him as much or more than he used her body. He could not touch her.

Bjorn? Something about him...the warmth of his laughter, the softness in his eyes, the gentle way that he listened more than he talked. He scared her. Scared the shit out of her. She was not really safe with him. She never would be. Because something inside of her warned her...he could break through her walls. Thick walls that she had spent a lifetime building. He could knock them all down. Then what? Where would she be then? Far more naked and vulnerable than she had been with either Sven or Mikael. 

And the soft, warmth of his shirt caressing her skin beneath her coat reminded her of that fact. Tonight she would be forced to face that danger. Tonight she would be alone with him. Alone in that small cabin. Alone in the bed that really was too small for two. 

For a moment, that thought scared her so much that the sea seemed to call to her. The Sirens seemed to beckon her to join them. Then a hand gripped her shoulder and she turned to face him, "The sun is going down now. It will get colder soon. You should go back inside. I will join you in the cabin after I shower and make us something to eat."

His smile was genuine. His eyes were lit with a soft glow from inside. His words were comforting and reassuring. She was terrified. She was in big trouble now. Alone with him. The night stretched out into an eternity. Would she survive? She feared not...not unchanged. But she found herself nodding and walking across the deck as it swayed gently with each wave. She turned back to see him watching her. His eyes met hers for a long moment. Oh, she was in big trouble here.

Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 09



Bjorn put the plates on the tray and tidied up the galley. He turned when he heard someone coming below deck. The last person he wanted to see at the moment. "Mikael, food is in the oven. It is my night with Kirsty so unless the boat catches fire, don't bother us." He saw the contemptuous look on his older brother's face, "Hell even if it does...don't bother us."

His brother shook his head and sneered, "Why? Why did you have to do this? We were fine. We did not need this crazy tradition. In the world we live in, it's dangerous and stupid. We could go to prison for a long time if we get caught." He shook his head, "We don't want to share a woman."

Bjorn sighed, "We or you, Mikael? We tried it your way, remember? And honestly, whether you want this or not, it is who we are. Modern world or not. So instead of spending the rest of your life trying to break away from traditions, maybe you should ask yourself why?"

He reached out his hand to put it on his brother's shoulder, but he shrugged him away. Just as he always pushed them all away. "Being a part of this family, of its way of life, does not have to make you second best. It can offer you the chance to be your very best, be who you really are." 

Mikael shook his head and screwed up his face until it was a mask of scorn and disgust. But Bjorn was not going to be silent this time, "You know that whole lone wolf thing is highly overrated. Without the pack to have their back, they die. Of starvation. From other predators. They are miserable without their pack. Sound familiar? Now if you will excuse me, I have better, prettier company to keep this evening, brother."

He shook his head as he pushed past his brother. He knew that he had been rough upon the man, but maybe that was what he needed. He did not care. As he said, right now he had much better things to do than spend any more time trying to convince the man of something they had all agreed to, something that was already done even. No, now, it was about moving forward. Moving forward as a family. And she was the key to that. The key to making three brothers who had spent a lifetime squabbling as siblings always did into a real family, into men. 

She was their anchor. He chuckled at the analogy. How appropriate but that was what they were a ship. A ship that was broken, pulling apart by the storms, hell, hurricanes of modernity. But she could be their anchor, could hold them together, and help them ride out the storm. 

He paused outside of the door way. He squared his shoulders, inhaled deeply and prepared himself for whatever waited on the other side. Because the truth was that while his company was most definitely prettier than either of his brothers, she was no less stubborn. And he needed to gird himself for a battle with her too. 

But unlike his Viking forefathers it would not be axes or shields with which he fought. It would be his mind. And he welcomed the challenge as much as they had welcomed the battles and the blood. "Valhalla could never be half as sweet as winning you will be," he smiled as he knocked. 

This time he was both shocked and relieved when a feminine voice answered, "Come in." They were making progress, perhaps? But when he opened the door to find her standing next to the bed, naked and with every damned implement from the toy box laid out on the bed, he stopped short. Without a word, he put the tray down on the table. 

He walked over and began picking up the ropes, cuffs, floggers, paddles, and all the rest. His hands were full as he turned silently and put them back where they belonged. It took him two trips to complete the task. She stared at him the whole time. As he closed the lid, she stamped her foot and crossed her arms over her breasts, she stared at him. But he refused to back down. She was the first to look away and Bjorn smiled quickly at the tiny victory. 

He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it to her, "Put this on."

Her head popped up, her hands dropped to plant firmly on her wide hips, she jutted her chest out like a banty roster. Her cheeks and chest flamed a deep scarlet that made her even more beautiful if that were possible. But the words out of her mouth floored him, "What? The fat girl not to your liking? Sven's choice not up to Thor's standard." 

He shook his head as he reached out to grasp her turgid nipples firmly between his thumb and forefinger. She dropped her gaze to the floor. He smiled, realizing that Kirsty did not want him to see just what he was doing to her, to her body. He rolled them back and forth for a moment until they were even harder, though how that was possible Bjorn was not sure. He pinched them then. 

Her gaze shot up instantly to meet his, "What makes you think that you were Sven's choice? He preferred the jaded Russian girl with the kid. Thought she would be easier, more grateful just not to have to struggle and always worry about keeping a roof over her kid's head and food on the table."

He enjoyed the look of shocked surprise then, "He probably was right to. Except for the abusive way she treated the child. That we won't stand for." He chuckled, "And I suppose I don't need to tell you that Mikael refused to put forth a candidate, said it was up to us to choose. He would go along with whomever we wanted. He did go along with the plan last night, did he not? Not the easy ally you expected, was he?"

She blushed even deeper at the truth of his insight as his fingers left her nipples, reluctantly. He held her gaze, dared her to look away. "You are MY choice. And if I ever hear you use that word about yourself again, you won't be able to sit down for a couple of days." 

He heard the quick intake of breath at his threat, "Oh, that turns you on does it? Then I'll have to come up with another option. Punishment is not meant for your pleasure. But never doubt, I will find your weakness. That thing you fear most. And I am not afraid to use it. When you deserve it."

He sighed, "As for the toys? Those are easy, Kirsty. Any Dom can use handcuffs and a paddle. Hell, any idiot can, and more than a few do. With a bit of practice, they can even learn to rope like Sven. And one day, I will introduce you to the pleasures...and pain...that a flogger can give. In the right hands of course."

"All of that is easy. What I want...what I need...is so much more than that." He stepped even closer. She was not a small woman, but neither was he a small man, and he used his size then to intimidate her. He wanted her to feel vulnerable. He wanted her to feel small. He even wanted her to taste fear...just a bit. He tapped her head, "No, what I demand is so much more than that." 

The fingers of his other hand moved between their bodies until they found the soft smooth, wet surface at the juncture of her thighs. He savored the way her eyes widened as they slipped just inside the wet folds, "No, my love, I don't want any of that..." He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips, licking the wetness that glistened in the light from them as he held her gaze, "Or even this sweetness." 

He smiled as he used the same fingers that the moment before had been inside of her to tap her forehead, "Not until I have what is in here." He dropped them lower to the hard flat surface between those beautiful alabaster tits sprinkled generously with light brown freckles until they looked like cupcakes covered in candy flecks just waiting to be devoured. "And what is in here."

He held her gaze until once more her blush deepened and she dropped her eyes. He bent then and picked up his shirt from where it had landed on the bed. He held it out for her. "Now put this on like I told you to before. Not because I don't want to look at that luscious body, but because I do not want to be distracted and tempted with thoughts of all the thousands of ways I will use it, train it, bring you...and me...pleasure that you cannot even imagine yet."

"You would not go naked on any other first date would you? Not while we get to know one another. Tonight is about getting to know one another more. About talking...and eating over a nice bottle of wine. About me learning even more about your job and friends. And about you learning more about us, our home...I can't wait for you to meet our mother. You are going to love her. Maybe almost as much as she does you. So please, put on my shirt while I warm our food back up."

He gave the order, even though it was crouched as a request, it was a command nonetheless. He picked the tray up, turned and walked to the door. He did not look back as he opened it and stepped outside. Only then did he allow himself the huge smile that he had been holding in from the moment she dropped her eyes that first time. 

He was not sure what the score was at this point in the game, but he knew one thing...he was winning. That round at least.

It was Sven he found in the galley when he went to warm the plates in the microwave. "What did you say to Mikael this time?" he demanded.

Bjorn finished punching the numbers into the microwave before turning to answer his brother's question, "The truth. Nothing he does not need to hear."

Sven shook his head as he brought a bite of chicken to his mouth. They were both silent as he chewed. He did not speak until he had taken a swig from the open bottle of beer on the table, "You know she was supposed to make things better. Bring us together. Not have us at one another's throats. Tear us apart."

Bjorn chuckled as the machine dinged and he pulled the plate of food out, placing it back on the tray before lifting it, he answered his brother with a smile, "If you listened to Mama's stories, you would know that sometimes you must do one before you can do the other. Our way is not easy, brother. Just right...for us anyway. Now if you will excuse me as I told Mikael I have much prettier company this evening." 

***

Kirsty tried to stifle a yawn as she chuckled at another of Bjorn's funny stories about growing up on the 'holding' as he called it. She did not know how long they had been talking. The plates sat empty on the table, the tray discarded on the floor, as they cuddled together in the bed half naked. 

She chuckled again and blushed at the thought, "What?" he asked with a deep rumbly chuckle of his own that she felt through her whole body. Her head rested upon his bare shoulder, one hand exploring the expanse of his surprisingly bronzed chest. 

She bit her lower lip and moved her hand away. Or tried to anyway until he covered it with his own. "Kirsty, look at me," the command was back in his voice. And it did funny things to her body. She struggled to breathe even as she fought not to obey him. But she lost as she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. How could she hope to win when it was herself she was fighting and not this man?

"I asked what you were thinking," he replied casually, but the way his fingers caressed hers as they rested over his heart, the dark intense gaze, was anything but. 

The intimacy beat at her then. Did she dare? Were even her thoughts no longer her own? Then she remembered his words earlier, "Not until I have what is in here." It was frightening how easily he had slipped inside her mind. She lifted her head, tried to pull back, but the arm on which she rested her head tightened about her, held her there. 

"Don't run from me. Not now." He chuckled lightly, "Has it really been all that bad? Our time together, our first date?" 

His transparency in that moment broke through walls that she wanted to desperately to keep in place. How could she deny this man access to her thoughts and feelings when he had revealed so much of his own this night? 

Her eyes misted over and she laid her head back on his shoulder as much because she did not want him to see the tears that glistened in her eyes as because she needed the solid comfort of his embrace to fortify her. "No. That's' the problem," she whispered. 

His fingers brushed her chin, lifted her face to meet his gaze. "Why is that a problem, my love?"

She shook her head, "How can you use those words so casually?" she sighed. "How can we lay half naked in bed together, sharing secrets that even my best friends never knew? And call it a first date? You and your brothers kidnapped me. You took me from my job, my friends, my family, everything I knew. I don't even know what tomorrow holds."

She was losing the battle as she felt the huge tears slid down her cheeks. "And all I can think is...does he kiss on the first date? What is wrong with me? How fucked is that?"

His fingers were infinitely gentle as they brushed the tears away. He brought them to his lips and tasted them, just as he had other things earlier. His arm about her loosened just a bit as he turned so that they faced one another fully. 

"Answer me one thing, my love and then I will answer all those questions," once more she fought a losing battle as she found herself nodding her head slowly. 

"Were you as happy then...in that life...our job, your parents, your friends...did they make you feel as happy and as secure as you have in my arms these past couple of hours?"

Her heart stopped. She could not make her lungs work. She could not breathe. How had he known? How had he cut through everything to the one thing that bothered her most? She knew that there was no chance she could lie her way of this one. Her reaction to his words alone would tell anyone with half a brain the truth. 

And there was nothing half way about Bjorn's brain. Not only was the handsomest, hottest, hunkiest guy she had ever known, he might well be one of the smartest. He was anything but the simple fisherman he claimed to be. He was well-read, some of the classics she had not even read, and her parents had not spared any expense upon her education. 

Truth be told...this man fascinated her. Turned her libido onto high. And made her want to believe every damned word he said about his home, his mother, their life...all he could offer her. All that sounded like heaven to her. Too good to be true.

Without waiting for empty words, he smiled. "I thought so. If you believe nothing else I ever tell you, believe this, if I did not honestly believe that I...that we...could make you happy. Happier than the job you truly did love. Happier than a traditional relationship that lacked any real passion," he winked as his fingers pinched her nipple through the soft material. "Happier than parents you see once a month or friends that you spend more time with online than face-to-face. Then I...we...would have never taken you."

He leaned his forehead against hers and smiled like she imagined that little boy would have watching the falcon soar. "Besides, my love, I know your dirty little secret. You forget I'm a damned good hacker. I know every book on that tablet over there," he smiled and nodded to the table behind her. "And I know that the idea of being taken...dominated...and yes, loved, by brothers is more intriguing to you than it is frightening."

She blushed as she shoved playfully at his bare chest, "Hey, that is just fiction. Fantasy...doesn't a girl have any privacy with you?" 

He rolled her then. His big body covered hers as she stared up into the intensely dark face that all man, all Dom, nothing like the vulnerable little boy he had revealed in his stories that night. He bent until everything else in the cabin, the world blurred into the background. Until he was all there was. 

"Your secret is safe with me, sweetheart. Not even my brothers know how much you really are our willing captive. But no, between us, there will never be any secrets. Do you understand me?" 

Kirsty nodded her head slowly. She was not sure whether she was more thrilled or frightened by his words...his intensity. No author could have ever captured her darkest fantasies as accurately as the man who held her now. And that truly was terrifying.

He was so close. His breath caressed her skin, mixed with hers. She wanted to taste those lips even as they opened again.

"I have already answered one of your questions. Know this too...I do not use those words casually. You are my love. Yes, I know that freaks you the fuck out," he chuckled and smiled. "Yes, I know that you set eyes on me a day and half ago. Yes, I know that you thought this was a one off casual thing with Sven and work up at sea to find yourself married...and you are married to all of us now...you are ours. And we do not easily let go of what is ours, my love."

"I know that all of that freaks you out. But it also thrills you, makes you feel safer and more loved than you ever have, than you ever imagined possible. I know too that in this moment you feel closer, more connected to me than the man you spent six years of your life with. And if that was not just a tiny bit freaky and frightening then I would be worried, then you would not be my Kirsty," he smiled as his fingers caressed her bottom lip.

"So do I think you are fucked in the head? No, as out of step with the times, as unique, as different as we are yes. But who is to say that it is not we, who are sane and the world that is fucked? As for what tomorrow holds? None of us know. That is how this crazy tradition began...one woman who grew tired of being a victim of Fate. One woman who wanted something different, fairer, more controlled for her sons and their mate than the life that she had known."

"But one thing I promise you, my love," her mind screamed out at those words again. Her heart skipped several beats at the look in his eyes. She wanted to argue that no one could really love someone they just met, but what she saw there said otherwise. "...Is that the most beautiful thing of all this...is that whatever tomorrow holds you will never ever be alone again as you have felt up until now. Because that is what family really is."

His laughter washed over her like waves upon the sand, sweeping her away with the tide, "Ours might not be perfect family...and if Mikael gets in my face one more time you may need those first aid skills of yours...but when push comes to shove as it did when Greta left him and Monika, we are always there for one another. And you are a part of that now. The biggest part."

His face turned dark and serious once more. It shocked and thrilled her at how easily this man, dare she even think it...her man...could go from Happy as she had nicknamed him...to deep and intense. She could spend years digging his depths. In that moment, she honestly wanted to buy it all, the story of happily ever after that he held out to her. Could it really work?

"And yes...I kiss one the first date. But my kind of kissing is a bit intense," he switched back to her playful little boy once more.

It drew forth her own, "Like everything else about you isn't?"

His fingers covered her lips that they had only moments before been caressing, "Shhh, my love, that is our little secret, just like Captured Brides are," he said, revealing her favorite erotica series. 

"Okay, so I bite, what is so intense about your kisses?"

"You bite? I thought that was more Sven's thing. But I won't deny the idea of your teeth in my shoulder as I make you come over and over again on my hard cock has some interesting possibilities. It might border a bit on switching, but hell, I'm game to try if you are," his naughty words had her body instantly on overdrive. 

"Your kisses? We were discussing your kisses," Kirsty hoped her voice did not sound has needy to him as it did to her.

He sighed and it pressed the hard ridge of that cock even closer to her core that was bare beneath the shirt. His shirt. His cock. His woman, she fought the thought. 

"So my dirty talk turns you on to. Your fetish list is getting longer, my love." He bent until his mouth actually touched her ear lobe, "Did I notice breath play on it too?"

"What? Haven't you stolen my breath often enough tonight with your words?" she teased. But she was not sure if it was him or herself.




Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 09



That chuckle swept more of her beneath his powerful waves once more, "But I have not had the pleasure of sharing it...of tasting you." He rose above her once more, that dark intensity bore through her, "Your permission, Kirsty. Do I have your consent?"

"Make no mistake about this...I will hold your life in my hands," he explained. "My hands about your throat will tighten until you cannot breathe on your own. My mouth will cover yours and I will take into my body what little air remains in your lungs. They will burn from lack of oxygen. Your head will get light. Everything inside of you will cry out for you to fight me. But I won't allow it."

"I will not release you...unless you tap out...and only now as I learn your body, your limits will I allow that...the day will come when there will be no safe words, no limits between us, when you will trust me even for the air you breathe. You will relax into me. You will surrender all those fears to me. Why? Because you know that your life is more valuable to me than it is even to you. Because you want and need to give it to me as much as I want and need you to. Then and only then will I breathe my breath back into you. And it will be my breath. Our breaths will be one as much as our bodies or souls ever could be."

He smiled down at her, "Is that intense enough for you, my love? And most importantly, do you trust me enough to share that? Do you really want to 'kiss' me?" He sighed and brushed her hair softly, "I won't lie and pretend that I won't be disappointed if you say 'no.' I will be...devastated probably. But I won't go anywhere. I'll wrap you in my arms and hold you while you sleep." 

"And tomorrow, I'll love you just as much as I do right now...as I did from probably that third email...remember the one where you told me...us...about how empty you felt when Raj left, not because you loved him so much but because you had wasted so many years with a man you had not and could not ever really love. Because I know you can and will come to me one day...that you will love and trust me one day. And I can wait for that. I don't want anything less from you ever. Do you hear me?"

She nodded her head slowly as his words sank into her mind, into her heart, into her body that wanted his so damned badly. More than she had ever wanted anything. She nodded and met his gaze, "Yes," she whispered.

"Yes, what, Kirsty? Yes, you heard me? Or yes, you want me to kiss you?" He lowered his head until their lips were almost meeting once more. His eyes seemed to search her face. She remembered his words about their breath mingling and becoming one. Wasn't it already? In that fraction of a centimeter between them? What was that tiny distance anyway? Was it even real? Weren't they already one in it?

She stared at those lips...so close...so far. "What if I want more than just a kiss, Bjorn?"

She heard his quick intake of breath. She felt as if he already was sucking the very oxygen and life from her body as he arched closer against hers, as his hard cock rubbed slowly against her. She opened her thighs as he sunk even closer. 

One of his hand laced through her hair, tugged hard until her eyes left those lips she craved, until they once more were lost in his depths. His other hand went about her throat, but it only rested there lightly. "Are you willing to give as much as you get? Are you willing to open more than just those sexy legs? Are you willing to let me deeper into your mind and heart than my cock can ever get into that sweet pussy it is dying to feel wrapped around it?"

"Do you understand what I'm asking? Maybe you aren't as in love with me right now as I am with you. I can understand that. But are you willing to open your heart enough to that possibility?" 

He breathed deeply, "Practically speaking, do I have your word that when we land tomorrow...the next day...you will not run? That you will give this...us...a fair chance? Because trust me as badly as my cock wants inside of you right now those are my terms. And I won't negotiate."

He held perfectly still. She could feel the intensity in his body arc back and forth between them like electricity...like lightening off of Thor's hammer. He waited as he had said he would...patiently for her answer.



Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 10



Bjorn had not realized that he was holding his breath until she nodded her head slowly once more. His head was spinning whether from lack of oxygen or how fast things were moving. Nothing about this night was going as he planned. He had honestly meant to take things slowly. To just talk.

And they had talked. Far longer and later than he had planned. It would be dawn in only a couple of hours and he would need to be back on deck. Now the question was...did he stick to his original plan and end this night holding her while they slept...or did he give them both what their bodies wanted so damned bad?

One problem...his responsibility to protect, care for and look out for her best interest did not rest in his little head, but with his big one. He needed to make absolutely sure this was not something she would regret later. "Talk to me, Kirsty," he commanded. "Why?"

He saw those huge tears gathering in her eyes once more and felt like a real bastard. Why did he have to push her? Why couldn't he just take what she offered? Bury himself deep inside of her and let tomorrow bring what it may. Because you love her, idiot...and because you want her to love you back one day. And taking advantage of her right now won't make that any easier. 

He shook his head, "Not tonight," he whispered as he tried to roll away from her. 

He could not when those long legs wrapped tightly about his waist. How often over the past few months had he thought about that very same thing? The only thing between them right now was his jeans and those were painfully tight. 

Her hands clutched his shoulders. He could actually feel her short nails biting into his skin. He had dreamt of that too. But in his dreams, she was coming hard around his cock. Why was he being such a fool?

Those big eyes stared up at him, "You told me not to run. Well, who is running now, big guy? You think I don't know what I want? You think I will regret this tomorrow? Well, here is some news for the big bad Dom: I am a big girl. And if I do that is my right, I'll deal with it. But in this moment, I want to try. I want to believe even if it is all lie, I want to live out a fantasy." 

She inhaled deeply and lifted her head, her mouth found his shoulder and her teeth nibbled along the ridge of it, "I want you, Bjorn. I want to go dizzy with your hand around my throat...as I look into your eyes...just like I read about in all those stupid books. And I want to feel your hard cock inside of me. I need to come."

No words could have been more certain to ignite his darkest needs than those. "Come for me? Are you willing to surrender those too, my love?"

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

He was the one spiraling out of control then. This training he had meant to withhold for a while. He had wanted to be certain that this would work before beginning it. He had never done it with a partner, but had spent years studying the process. 

He had been deeply touched by a post in the online forum he followed. It was written by a sub, who discovered that she could no longer orgasm at all, after her Dom left. It had changed how he saw this forever. Oh, he still craved it...maybe even more. But now he feared it too. If...no, when, they went there, it was as binding, more binding, on him than her. He could never, would never do that to anyone, let alone the woman he loved. 

To begin this now...from their first encounter? It committed him to her, not that he was not already. But it committed him to her above all others. Above his brothers, his mother, himself. He would have questioned his own sanity, except he knew the answer already. He wanted nothing half way with her. "Orgasm control and conditioning, Kirsty. I want to control those too. I want all of you."

She shook her head, "I still don't understand. Of course, I want to come with you...for you."

"No, sweetheart, more than that. I want total control...you won't be able to orgasm at all without my permission," he explained.

She chuckled, "How is that even possible?" 

"Your mind and body will become so cued to my voice, to my words that without my permission you simply will not be able to. We will have a special trigger, my sweet Freya." Though she did not realize it he began the process with the words that he had chosen just for her. "Those words will be so powerful that your body will react...even if I am not with you. Just those words from me and I can give you the same pleasure my touch can," he explained.

She inhaled, "Now that one seems more fantasy than anything in my books."

He shrugged, "But it will happen between us, my love. For tonight, we keep it simple. When you feel your body on the edge hold back, ask my permission first. Can you do that? Can you do that with my cock pounding way deep inside your wet pussy? Can wait just long enough for me to whisper...come for me, my sweet Freya?"

He saw the way her eyes widened at his deep tone and erotic words. She might not realize it yet but his beautiful wife would be so fucking easy to train. She seemed to crave the darkest recesses of his mind almost as much as she desired his body. 

And there had never been any doubt that he craved hers. He decided then. He would take this as far as she allowed...and then push her just a bit further. More importantly, he would assume full responsibility for it all. She might think that she had the rights to her regrets, but even those would become his too. Honestly, he already had. It was he, who had convinced his brothers to capture a bride. It was he who choose her. Was she not fully his responsibility then? 

"Hands above your head, Kirsty. Have you heard of honor bondage? Sven may love his rope. Mikael might like those nasty damned cuffs. But I expect more from you. The only thing that you will need to bind you is my words. Do you understand me?"

She nodded her head and stretched her hands as far above her as she could. He bent close until his mouth was next to her ear. "You forgot something, sweetheart. 'Yes, Master,' say it, Kirsty. If you want these little games to continue, if you want my hand around that pretty little neck, my cock inside your tight twat, then say...'Yes, Master.' "

Her quick intake of breath told him that he had struck a chord even before her breathy, quivering, "Yes, Mas-ter."

"Good girl," he whispered as he bite into her ear lobe. "Just so you know, you and Sven aren't the only biters." 

He leaned back so that they were once more eye to eye, "But I think this all began because someone wondered if I kiss on the first date. Let's start there, shall we? Then see how it goes from there." He winked, "If you survive one of my kisses, that is."  

He held her gaze as his hand covered her throat once more. The pressure was gentle, but this time he was not simply resting it there. He needed to gauge her reactions, see if she truly could manage this level of intensity. "Very good, my love."

He slowly lowered his head. His pressure on her throat increasing with each centimeter of distance he came closer to her lips. He watched her face, studied it intently. He held her gaze, checking for the least sign of alarm. 

What made him proudest was that when most women might have been tempted to fight, to scratch and claw at his hands, her arms remained above her head as securely as if they were tied there. Not that they ever would be when they played these games, it was another level of his fail safe. As was holding his own breath to get a better feeling of what she was experiencing. And the burn he was beginning to experience in his lungs told him it was time. Time to intensify these games.

He covered the small distance between them quickly. Her eyes closed in anticipation of the kiss, "Not this way, my love, open those eyes. I need to see that you are with me every step of the way. Understand me?"

She nodded her head as her eyes opened to look up into his once more. He captured them as surely as they had captured her. His mouth touched hers. Lightly at first, his tongue traced her bottom lip and it opened for him. His head was getting lighter now. Was that from the lack of oxygen or from the power she was surrendering to him? He wanted more. He wanted to drag this game out longer. But he would not. Would not risk it. He would rather pull back too quickly, leave her wanting more, than frighten her this first time. 

His mouth covered hers, his tongue scraped her teeth as he inhaled deeply, drawing what little oxygen remained deep in her alveolar into his own. He held it there for a moment savoring the taste of her, the taste of her surrender. His eyes moved over hers. Her pupils began to dilate a bit as the reality of it all, as fear, dawned upon her. He breathed back into her. His breath, their breaths mixed together. They were one and the way that all tension flowed out of her body then told him that she had felt it too. 

He slowly released the pressure of his hand about her throat but he left it resting there as he drew back until her whole face and not just those expressive eyes came into focus. "That was perfect, my love. You were such a good girl. So trusting, so fucking submissive." He brushed her hair back out of her face as he smiled at her, "Are you okay?"

She shook her head and he frowned in alarm until a brilliant smile lit that beatific face from within, "Okay does not begin to cover it. Neither does your intense. That was fucking amazing. Do it again," she pleaded.

Bjorn chuckled, "Not now, maybe once more later. But one thing too many people don't do right is they don't allow their partner's oxygen levels to replenish themselves. They keep doing it over and over again. Pushing the envelope and that is dangerous. I enjoy walking lines, not stepping over them just to see if I can get away with it this time. Remember I am playing with the most important thing in my world...your life. And big boys never want to break their toys."

He did not like the pouty look on those luscious lips and said so, "No topping from the bottom. You wanted something. You asked politely like a good girl and unlike some Doms I do not consider asking for what you want topping. But I told you no...and I explained why. Let it go now or I will punish you. And I would hate to end this perfect first date with a punishment, wouldn't you?"

She nodded her head again and blushed, "So I can ask for what I want? I won't get in trouble for that."

He chuckled, "You are more likely to get into trouble for not asking, my love. Afraid that I have not perfected the mind reading thing so open, honest and transparent communication will have to do in this lifetime."

Her face became serious, but she did not lower her eyes this time. And that made him even prouder than the fact that he could see her fingers above her head moving to keep the blood flowing or maybe to remind her to keep them there. She bit her lower lip again. It was a fascinating habit, a 'tell,' gamblers would call it. 

"I need you inside of me," her whisper was barely audible. Its low throaty sounds washed over him like swells in the worst storm threatening to knock him over and suck him out to sea. Except this woman had long ago swept him away. He knew that he did not have the strength then to deny either of them what they wanted. 

He reached above her, grasp both of her hands in one of his while he held his weight off her, balanced upon the other. He drew her arms down, brought her hands to his lips, rubbing her forearms to restore full circulation as he planted kisses in the center of her palms. "Then unzip my jeans. Put my cock inside of you."

Those expressive eyes gave her away again as they widened, "If you want something bad enough, my love, sometimes you have to take it." He lowered his head and trailed feathery kisses along her neck, "Just like I took you," he lifted his head and challenged. "Are you a big enough girl to take what you want? To capture me the way I captured you?"

***

Kirsty smiled, this man was full of surprises. She loved that. He fascinated her, made her want to learn more. She drew her hands slowly away from those amazing lips, she really did want to taste them again. But right now, getting those damned jeans open was more important. That was as good a place as any to start learning more about this man. 

The only problem was that she could not seem to make her fingers work. It had nothing to do with the tingles that were fading rapidly with each loud pounding beat of her heart. And everything to do with him. She still found it a bit intimidating that a guy like him would even take a second look at someone like her. Honestly, the guy would have made a better casting for the character of Thor than the actor that played him in the movies. He was Norse god and all man. 

"Kirsty, what is taking so long? Changed your mind, sweetheart?" She looked up into his handsome face and shook her as she bit her lower lip. It stung a bit. Then she remembered Mikael...and this was a package deal. That too was intimidating...down right frightening...and as he said as intriguing as fuck.

Fuck...if she really wanted to fuck this man then she had better find a way to make her fingers work. She lowered her eyes once more and fumbled some more with the button. It seemed to take forever to spring free. But she was rewarded for her efforts with a quick intake of breath as his large hand covered hers. 

"I think I better handle the zip, sweetheart," his deep rumble caressed her skin and she smiled up at him.

"What? Commando in there? Worried about the family jewels?"

His throaty rumble as he pushed her hand away and made quick work of the zipper was as much an answer as the "Yes" he half chuckled but not as much as the thick, hard cock that instantly sprang free. Kirsty knew that 'beautiful' was not a word any man wanted used for this particular body part especially, but damn it was the only one she could think of...besides perfect. 

"You keep looking at me like that and it is going to be over before it begins, sexy," he teased.

She could not stop herself, her hand reached out tentatively. She had to touch it...touch him. She wanted to feel it in her hand, run her fingers over it. Fuck, she wanted to taste it...and she had never been any more into the blowjob thing than she was into the going down thing that Mikael had used as torture last night. But him...his cock...she wanted to worship. 

"Stop it, woman," he growled as he rolled on top of her a bit more. He brushed her hair back with that darkly intense gaze, "Just the way you look at me is killing me."

"So if I asked to taste you?" she whispered.

He shook his head, "I'd say not right now, my love." He bent lower until once more they were nose to nose, until those intense green eyes were her whole world. Well, besides the bare cock that she still held in her hands, slowly stroking. "Put me inside you, Kirsty. Now," she was not sure if it was a plea or a command but the depths of need in those eyes almost matched her own.

She spread her thighs even more. Lifted her hips just a bit off the bed as her hand that could not wrap all the way around him guided his cock slowly towards her wet cunt. She smiled and giggled. "What now, woman?" he gave a tortured growl.

"You are a bad influence, Master. I just thought a dirty word," she teased.

"I can think of more than a few of them. How about...my hard cock wants to bury itself so deep inside your wet pussy that we can never get them separate," he matched his actions to words as his hips added momentum to her hands. The thick head of his cock lodging inside of her for the first time. It knocked all breath from her body as surely as his 'kiss' had. 

"Cunt," she gasped.

"Cunt...pussy...oh so fucking tight twat. Damn it woman, I'm dying here and you want a lesson in dirty talk?" His fingers threaded through her hair as his hips began to move faster and deeper. "All right, you want dirty talk? How's this...your 'cunt' feels like a vise around my cock, it's so fucking tight." He arched his back and growled as he buried himself fully inside of her. 

Each of his naughty words registered as solidly as each thrust of his thickness inside of her. She planted her feet on the mattress and lifted her hips, "Oh," she moaned.

And Bjorn stopped, buried completely to the hilt inside of her, "You are forgetting something, my sweet Freya."

Her eyes flew to his face. She struggled to draw air into her oxygen starved lungs. Her nipples hardened so much that she feared they could cut through diamond. How could those words affect her so much? So quickly. In that moment she knew...he was right. With him she would lose control of herself...even something as simple as the air she breathed, something as intensely private as her orgasms...he would control them all. Worse...she wanted him to. 

"Pl...ease...please...Master," she found herself begging.

"Please what, Kirsty?"

"Please, Master, I need to come," she whimpered.

He smiled at her, "I am not sure whether to be disappointed that I had to remind you, my love. Or pleased at how quickly your body responds to mine." His fingers tugged her hair and tilted her head back a bit more. "Never forget again, my sweet Freya." 

This time it was his forearm that lay across her whole throat. Pressure increasing with each slow, deep thrust of that perfect cock inside of her. He lowered his face slowly towards hers as he buried himself to the hilt once more. "Come for me, my sweet Freya," his lips whispered against hers.

The world exploded. The whole fucking universe seemed to repeat the Big Bang in slow motion. Her body instantly reacted to his command. Without conscious thought even. Her tits squashed against the hard plain of his bronzed chest. Her cunt spasmed around his cock, milking it as his mouth sucked the last morsel of air itself from her body. And she did not give a damn. She had never felt so alive.

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as pleasure she could never imagine flooded all her senses. She loved the taste of his tongue against hers. She believed in that moment that he was right...her body would never again be separate from his. Her vision began to blur, to go dark around the edges. Then once more he breathed life back into her and she exploded again. Even though her first orgasm had not yet abated another overtook her, lifting her to another plane. All she could do was cling to those broad shoulders as his hips pounded harder and faster against hers. 

She stared in fascination as his handsome face contorted. It seemed that his release too bordered on both heaven and hell as she felt him pour himself inside of her, empty himself into her welcoming body. And she gloried that she could do that to this man. That she could give him as much pleasure as he gave her. 

As he collapsed spent against her, she was glad that his eyes was closed. She would not want him to the see the knowing smile on her lips as she realized that in the end...it was she who was the master...and he her slave. She wrapped her arms about him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips as the sun began to lighten the horizon. "Good night, my love," she whispered as she snuggled against him not even mindful of his weight crushing her, more comforted by it than discomforted.

***

Bjorn cursed under his breath as he realized that Kirsty still had his shirt on. He would be later still getting on deck as he stopped off to get another one. But what the fuck could he complain, not after last night. He bent and kissed her. Turning reluctantly, he left her to sleep. 

His brothers had already tossed out the net by the time he got on deck. Mikael just gave him another contemptuous look, but Sven smiled as he walked over. "I do not need to ask how last night went."

Bjorn knew he was blushing, could feel the heat rising around his ears as he shrugged. "Sorry, I am late."




Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 10



"Do not be. You had the hard job last night," his brother chuckled.

"Since when did you grow a sense of humor?" he kidded.

His brother shrugged, "I do not know...recently it would seem."

Bjorn smiled. It was a good sign...even if there were none from Mikael. "Will we reach port this evening?"

His brother shook his head and looked out to sea, "No, the wind and waves have been against us." He turned back to Bjorn, "You should go back below. Join her. Get some sleep. You look like one of our ancestors after a battle...hyped on the thrill of battle...and ready to drop from exhaustion."

Bjorn shook his head, "I have a job to do. And if we do not reach port this evening, then I have watch tonight."

"No, I will take it. You stay with the woman," he offered.

"The woman is our wife and she has a name...Kirsty," he replied.

"Fine, then stay with Kirsty this evening. You seem able to reach her when neither Mikael nor I can."

There was nothing in this world that he wanted more than another night in her arms, in her tight cunt, in her intelligent mind. But that was not their way. She was not his woman. Not his alone. She never would be. He reminded his brother of that then, "You know that is not how it works."

Sven shook his head, "Maybe Mikael was right, maybe it should be. Maybe it was just the wrong brother, the wrong woman."

Bjorn felt it all slipping away, the little head way that he thought he had made with Sven at least. And after two nights with almost no sleep he was in no mood for games, "Really? You want her to be your sister? You want to see her every day that we are home? You want to watch me touch her? Kiss her? You want to remember how sweet and wet and welcoming her cunt is? How wide those blue eyes get when she comes? You want to remember all that knowing you will never taste her sweetness again?"

He saw Sven's hands knot into fists at his side, maybe he should stop, but he could not. "Then you are the biggest fucking fool on this planet. Because after one night inside of her, one night in her arms, I would fight every fucking spirit in Valhalla, all the damned gods...and you two. Nothing would make me trade that."

He watched his brother, expecting one of those fists to come sailing through air, he stood ready to block it. But it was his brother's word that landed the deepest punch, "Really? Because it seems like that is exactly what you are doing, baby brother."

Bjorn sighed as he struggled to find the words to make his brother understand. "You think I want to see your teeth marks on her tits? You think I like wondering what Mikael did that made her scream like that? You think I am some masochistic fuck? I am not."

"But monogamy is not our way. It did not work for Mikael and it would not with her either. I know you think you may be doing her a favor...me even. But you aren't. The sooner we face the realities of what this 'marriage' means the better we can handle it. Then we can all move forward. Together as a family, the way it is supposed to be, the way it always has been," he was not sure what else he could say if that did not reach his brother.

He waited a long moment until Sven nodded his head slowly. "Fine, have it your way. But she decides. She picks me or Mikael. Her choice again."

Bjorn was not pleased with Sven's answer. He might be willing to share her with his eldest brother but at the moment he did not trust Mikael with her. But it would have to do for now. "Fine. But I tell her. I will take her lunch and speak with her then."

"And take a damned nap. I don't want you running the fucking boat onto a rock somewhere." 

Bjorn just laughed as he headed over to check the nets. He was not looking forward to the conversation he must have with his wife in a couple of hours. But more than that...he hoped like hell that she choose Sven and not Mikael. He did not think he could manage one more night with visions of the sick things his brother might do to the woman he loved. He chuckled as if he could hear his mother's voice..."sometimes they did not agree on how they showed their love to me." 

But the problem was, he was not sure there was any love left in Mikael. Beyond Monika that was. He supposed that he would have to trust that a father's love would be enough to protect the woman he needed to reach his little girl. It was all that Bjorn had to believe upon when it came to Mikael and the woman he loved.



Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 11



Bjorn held a cup steaming cup of tea in one hand, milk no sugar, and his of black coffee in the other. He shifted them so that he could open the door. He smiled to see her roll over as he entered, "Good afternoon, sexy."

She giggled, "And whose fault is that? Keeping me up all night with..." she blushed before continuing, "great conversation."

"Yes, well, it seems that I might do a tad more on a first date than just kiss," he joked as he held out her cup of tea. She smiled and that blush reached the corners of those delectable ear lobes as she took the cup. 

He considered whether to sit on the bed next to her. He wanted to be as close to her as possible when they were together, but considering the topic of conversation he might be safer on the other side of the room. A cup of hot tea might not be as lethal as one of their fishing hooks, but it could do serious damage nonetheless. In the end though, he could not resist her charms. He just hoped that his reflexes would be fast enough if things got heated...and not the good kind like last night.

"How did you sleep?" he asked as she lowered the cup from those pink lips that had him distracted already. 

"Better than you did from the looks of it," she teased.

He shrugged, "I'll survive. I have gone on less sleep than the past couple of nights before. When the seas get rough, we all have to be on watch," he took a sip of his coffee and held her stare. It was the opening he was looking for, "Speaking of which, Sven says that we will not make port today. The winds have been against us so far," he hoped that was not prophetic as he tip toed into these dangerous waters. "That means I have watch tonight."

He heard her deep intake of breath as she nodded her head. He knew that her mind was going down that pathway anyway, better that he take the lead and quickly. "You may choose again tonight, who shares your bed...Sven or Mikael?"

She nodded without looking up at him as she took another long sip of the light brown liquid. He debated whether to say more or wait patiently. When she finally did look up, he saw her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears in the bright early afternoon sun. "I'm sorry. I guess I am being silly. It is just," she stammered along as she gripped the cup so tightly that her knuckles shone white in its light, "I guess I just thought that what we shared...what happened last night...I don't know..." she shook her head and dropped her head.

He took her cup and put both of them on the table. When he came back, he gave her no choice as he nudged his body into the bed next to her. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms about her. He held her for a moment even though he felt the tension in her. He knew that she was fighting her own battle in her mind. A huge part of her wanted to push him away, throw something at him, curse him for a liar. But she stayed nestled there...and that was a good sign. 

After a long moment, he placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his. The tears had spilled over and they ate like acid in his gut. For a moment, he thought about changing his mind. He was sure that Sven would still take tonight's watch. 

But that was not their way. Where would that leave his brothers? Sven would, as he had since he first went to sea with their fathers at seven, pour all of himself into Ægir's Captive. He would work too hard, laugh too little, grow old and die at sea. And Mikael? As angry as he was with his brother at the moment, he was the reason that Bjorn had begun this search. He and Monika needed what Kirsty could give more even than he did. 

No, as much as he might selfishly want to keep her all to himself...she was their only hope. She was their anchor. Their one. He sighed, it seemed he was battling them all...Mikael, Sven even her. None of them could see what he saw so clearly. They needed one another. They were stronger together than they ever could be apart. 

He brushed her tears aside, "Last night was special. What we have is and always will be special. And I know that your mind is battling a lifetime of tradition. I also know that some kinky part of you," he chuckled, "wants more than that. Look at me, my love." He purposefully used the endearment to make his point. 

She looked up and smiled weakly at him. Her throat constricted and he could see that she was still fighting back those tears, "Tell me, sweetheart. Look me in the eye and tell me that if it were just us...just the two of us...monogamy, you would never look at Sven and remember the feel of his ropes around your wrists. That you would never think about whatever the hell...and please don't tell me...it was that Mikael did to you that made you scream like that."

He smiled as she turned the deepest scarlet that he could imagine, but she neither confirmed nor denied what he said...and that told him all he needed to know. "I thought so. Kirsty, know this...monogamy is not the only way. What you share with Sven...or even with Mikael...will not lessen one bit what we have between us. And hopefully...over time...that sweet spirit you have can even take a bit off our edges. Be the thread that bring us together."

He laced his fingers through hers and brought them to his lips, "You know that rope of my brother's that turns your insides to mush as much as my hand on your throat? Tonight when he brings it out, look at it. It is not a single strand. It is not just two strands. It is several...all woven together to give it the strength that it needs to do the job. That is what our lifestyle, our marriage, is all about. Its job is so hard, so difficult that two strands do not provide enough strength. It takes all of us and you my love are the one strand that can bind us all together. Hold us together when the world...and probably each of us...wants to rip us apart."

He kissed her nose and noted that the tears were not as bright now in those expressive eyes, "I know that sounds like a huge job. And I won't lie, it is. But I believe," he shook his head, "No, I know in here that you are the woman who can do it. You are our one," he finished as he thumped his chest. 

He waited and watched her face as he saw his words play through her mind. He honestly did not know what more he could say if she still had doubts. He wished that Petrine was there, his mother would know just what to say to their wife. But she was not and a great deal rode on this night. On Kirsty's ability to embrace their lifestyle and on his to let her go, which he knew would be a lot harder than he let on to her. 

Slowly she nodded her head, "Okay," she whispered.

He chuckled, "Okay, what, my love?"

She shook her head, "Okay, Master?" she offered insecurely.

"No, not Master in this. I will not force you. And I will not make the choice for you. So I ask again...Sven or Mikael?" He watched her chew that bottom lip again. Damn, it was so cute. 

"Sven?" she whispered looking up at him. 

He wanted to sigh in relief at her choice, but he could not let his desires affect her choice. "Was that your answer or a question, Kirsty?"

She shrugged, "A bit of both, I guess."

They both laughed, "Since I will not make your decision for you...now or ever...I will take that as your answer," he smiled. 

She shifted nervously in his arms. He toyed with his next move. His brother might have his head for this one or thank him in the morning. He knew he would resent like hell if Sven or Mikael interfered in their relationship. On the other hand, he had already decided his first loyalty was to her now. And if he could ease the way for her, make this evening more...enjoyable. Damn why did that word taste like shit in his mind? 

He sighed as he came to a decision for right or wrong. "Did you bring it?"

She shook her head and scrunched up her forehead, "Bring what? I don't understand."

"The corset?" he asked. Her instant blush told him even before the slight nod of her head that she had. He smiled as he remembered the message string when they had discussed taste in lingerie. Of course, his preference would always be what she wore right now...his shirt. Him. But he had spent enough time in clubs with his brothers to know what each of them liked. In women. In lingerie. And in kinky fetishes. 

And he knew just what would push his brother's button. "Wear that tonight then. Do you know the submissive pose?"

She frowned and shook her head, "Then let's begin there, shall we?" He hoped he was not going too far, if he was it might be his face that got re-arranged and not Mikael's. He slapped her butt playfully, "Up then, get your cute ass out of bed. Time for some lessons on being a good little sub."

***

Sven shook his head as he reached for the towel. What was he doing taking a shower in the bathroom down the hall? But he had turned his cabin over to her. Her. It seemed that she ruled everything. Even before she came on board the ship. She had been all that they thought about, talked about, argued about for months. 

He ran his hands through his wet hair and banged his head on the wall next to the mirror. It had only gotten worse since the moment he brought her on board. Mikael was even more withdrawn and sullen...if that were possible. And Bjorn? His normally jovial baby brother that let nothing get to him suddenly was attacking more like a bear with a thorn in its paw. Sven had been afraid a couple of times that he would have to come between them. 

And him? Fuck, he could not seem to think straight anymore either. It was his little head that was doing all the talking these days. And that little head wanted nothing more than to bury itself once more in the sweet, tight welcome of her body. Damn it, he needed to get her out of his blood. Needed to get this damned thing under control.

He laughed. Bjorn thought that he was trying to protect him and the woman by offering to take watch tonight. That was not it at all. He was trying to protect himself. Trying to avoid getting caught any deeper in her web. 

He thought about the strands of her red hair spread across his white pillow that first time. It had been so fine, so beautiful, so stark...like the web of a spider. And he was a fly. His brothers were flies. "Fuck," he spat as he pounded his fists against the wall. 

Because no matter how much he might fight it, his body had other ideas. Just the image of her lying naked with her hair spread across his pillow had his cock half hard. And now he faced a whole night with her. 

"Not going to get any easier standing here, old man," he said to the ageing face in the mirror. 

That had been why he had agreed, why he had gone along with Bjorn and their mother. He was getting older. He had spent a life time fighting for their way of life. Since seven when he had finally convinced Stig that he could help more than get in their way, Ægir's Captive and the sea had been his all. He was determined that despite the changes their family fishing business would survive. Their traditions would continue. 

But that was just it...continue for what? For how long? He was almost forty now. He had what another twenty years at sea? Maybe twenty-five? Even Bjorn could only continue it for another thirty or so. No, the whole point of it was family...something to pass on to the next generation. But there was no 'next' generation. As much as he loved his niece and he did, he could not see Monika, the only child they had produced, a girl, and... Well, with her challenges, managing Ægir's Captive all alone. 

They needed sons. Strong sons. To fish the seas as they did. As their fathers had. And their grandfathers. And their grandfather's grandfathers. And that meant they needed a wife to give them those sons. 

That was where his logic failed him though. Because when he was with her, hell, when he thought about her, it was not so cut and dry. It was not just some fucking biological imperative to reproduce. Some need to spread his genes.

He wanted more than that. So much more than that with her. His brother had hit a bit too close to the truth when he spoke about the way those deep blue eyes of hers dilated and grew so fucking big when she came...when she tasted fear. The soft way that she inhaled when he got too close, brushed even casually against her. It had his guts and his nuts in a knot.

Why couldn't Bjorn have just gone along with his suggestion? Spent this night...and all the others with her. But his brother was right there too. They could not go back. He might have had no sexual thoughts about Greta, might have even been repulsed when she tried to seduce him behind Mikael's back. Not that he would ever tell Mikael what she did. 

But Kirsty was different. She was theirs. She had been his first. Before Mikael made her scream. Before she had put that shit faced grin on Bjorn's face, even when he knew that his baby brother was about to drop from exhaustion. He had taken her first...as was their way. The right of the eldest. And as much as he might want to fight it. Might want to deny it. He wanted to take her again. Tonight. Every fucking chance, he got. He wanted to spend all of them inside her wet, warm cunt. 

He opened the door and ran into the little brother that he wanted to strangle at the moment for knowing him better than he knew himself. "I thought you had watch? Changed your mind? Want to spend the night with her after all?" Why did that thought bother him so much now? It had been his suggestion after all.

Bjorn smiled and Sven wanted to knock the smug look off his face. "No, just saying good night to our wife before I went back on deck." 

Sven did not like something about the way his baby brother was smiling. But he nodded anyway as he tried to shove past him in the narrow hallway. But his brother's hand on his shoulder stopped him as he leaned in a bit. "Dirty talk," he half whispered.

Sven drew back and stared at his brother, "What do you mean? Like slut and whore? That sort of stuff?" She had not seemed the type to be into humiliation. It had not made her fetish list. 

Bjorn shook his head, "I don't know about that stuff. Not my style anyway. But try telling her all the things you're going to do to her. Her cunt, her pussy, even twat and cock. See what happens, big brother."

Sven chuckled and shook his head, "I'm not sure whether to hit you or thank you, baby brother."

Bjorn's laughter echoed down the small corridor then, "Yeah, well, that is really going to be the question when you open that door, old man."

Sven would have asked him what he meant but his brother was smart enough to make a hasty retreat before he could find the words. Staring down the hall to that closed door, he supposed the only way to find out was to open it. 

Reluctantly, he walked that short distance. Why did he feel more like a condemned man than one going to his marital bed? But when he pushed open the door without knocking, his breath froze in his lungs. 

She knelt on the floor by the bed. Her knees were spread apart, as wide as possible. Her hands rested palm up on them. Her head was down, that sea of red hair fell like a waterfall about her face. And she wore nothing but a black corset that hugged every single curve she had. Those luscious tits threatened to pop out of the top and he could see the rainbow colored outline of his teeth marks on the swell of it. As clearly as he could see her juices that glistened on her bare cunt.

He was going to have a word with his baby brother for certain. He just was not sure yet what that word would be. But he had admit that Bjorn had nailed it on the head. She was perfection. Every sub he had ever trained, every fantasy he had ever had, fell short of the woman that knelt on the floor at his feet. 

He crossed the room until he stood just in front of her. He brushed her hair back from her face, wrapped it about his fist as he tugged gently, "Look up at me, Kirsten." 

When she lifted though expressive blue pools, he knew he was lost in their depths. He could see the touch of fear, not that he would hurt her...but of the unknown, fear of herself even. He could see too her need to please. He had to admit; she was beautifully submissive at heart, perhaps more than she even realized. He could see too desire and that was like throwing fuel on the flames of his own. 

He wanted to throw her on the bed and pummel her. Take everything she offered, push the boundaries of her submission. Dominate her, yes, but own her more even than that. But he had all night for that, they would begin just a bit slower. He wondered how far his baby brother's training of their wife had gotten as he dropped the towel about his waist. "Suck my cock, Kirsten."

***

Kirsty felt her nipples harden inside of the corset. Even the soft cotton lining seemed painfully abrasive against the tender nubs. His words seemed so naughty, so dirty. Demeaning even. So why the hell were they turning her on so damned much? 

She stared at the cock in front of her. She wanted to giggle, but she knew better. No man would appreciate laughter at this point, especially as Bjorn called his brother... an old school Dom. And it was not his cock that she found funny. But herself. 

She tentatively reached out her hand, wrapped it around his cock. She weighted it, enjoyed the silky soft feel encasing pure steel. She began to slowly stroke and caress it as she moved her face closer. She wanted to taste him, every bit as much as she had wanted to taste Bjorn's last night. 

And that was what made her want to giggle. In the space of two days, she had doubled the number of cocks that she had ever actually touched. She frowned...not quite. She forgot that while Mikael had more than pleasured her body, he had revealed none of his own that night. But considering how much she had enjoyed exploring his brothers'...and yes, a bit of comparing, though not in that way...she admitted she wanted to discover more about Mikael's as well. 

But back to the situation, or cock, at hand. She had to admit that she was more than a bit intimidated, insecure about what to do. Sucking Raj's cock had meant a few jerks on the shaft and a couple of quick licks until it was hard enough to fuck. She wanted more with Sven...more with them. But she was not sure what more there was.

As if he sensed something, Sven tugged at her hair, once more forcing her face to look up into his. "Did you not hear me? Did you not understand, Kirsten?" he growled.

She shook her head slowly and blushed. She tried to look down but his fingers through her hair prevented her from lower her head. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth as she realized that she had bitten her lower lip, reopening Mikael's wound. How could she say it? How did she admit that at twenty-six she had no real idea how to please a man like that? How to give a blowjob?

She felt the tears gathering...how was it that all she seemed to do around these guys was cry? She hated tears. How many times had her mother, her nannies, her head mistress told her...big girls do NOT cry. "I don't know how all right," she knew that she sounded deviant. Feared that it would reap her a punishment. Had no idea what that would entail with this man but remembered Bjorn words about it not being meant to give her pleasure.

What she was not expecting was the deep, throaty laugh that seemed to break the ice between them, his blue grey eyes sparkled when she found the strength to look up into them then. "I am glad that baby brother left the old man something to train you in."

She chuckled too, "He said you would like the corset."

"And I bet he showed you just how to kneel too, did he not?"

Kirsty was not sure what to say. What was proper protocol, etiquette, as her mother would say? How much did you reveal of what you said and did with your other lover...his brothers...in this new and unusual situation? She thought of what Bjorn had said about there being no secrets between the two of them. But did she not owe Sven and even Mikael loyalty as well. In the end, she simply nodded.




Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 11



Sven laughed again and she noticed how it softened the tiny lines on his forehead, about his eyes and mouth. When he laughed, he looked years younger. She wished he laughed more often. 

"He has seen me correct enough subs in the clubs to know my preference. And it is a preference. Did he show you other positions as well?" he asked. She shook her head 'no' and Sven smiled. "Then we shall begin our lessons there. Back to the way you were when I came in."

Kirsty was more than a bit disappointed. It was another kind of lesson that she wanted at this point, not more kneeling. But Bjorn's words...old school...rang in her ears. Until she knew Sven better she was not going to test her boundaries less she be punished for topping from the bottom. So she shifted her weight so that once more her bottom rested upon her heels. She spread her knees as wide apart as she could as she dropped her head and brought her hands to rest palm up on her knees.

She heard his intake of breath, then she felt his hand softly caress her cheek. "Baby brother trained you well, Kirsten. I cannot remember even an experienced sub who did that better. Did he tell you why I like this version?"

She shook her head again but this time Sven gripped her chin and lifted her head. His face was dark and as stern as any Head Master. "I see my baby brother has been remiss in other lessons too. When I ask you a question, you do not shake your head or nod at me. You will answer me. Politely. And you will address me as Sir. Is that understood?"

Kirsty started to nod, but quickly caught herself, "Yes, Sir."

He smiled though it did little to soften that sternness. "Good girl, but do not forget again. You enjoy pain too much for me to use the cane as punishment. No, for you...I am thinking that you should stand in the corner. On your toes if needed."

Kirsty blushed and bit her lower lip again. Did he have any idea how humiliating she had found that when she was in school? It was as if she could feel all her classmates looking at her back. It was the punishment she had hated the most...besides calling her parents of course. But she did not think that Sven would call her mother to report every little infraction of talking in class. 

"Yes, Sir" she replied reluctantly.

"Back to the lesson," he lowered her head then. She could see his bare feet. Since when were men's feet so fascinating, so sexy? But she was careful to follow them only with her eyes, not daring to move her head even when he walked behind her. He reached around her and grasped a wrist in each of his large calloused hands. She could feel his body brush against her back as he bent forward and she inhaled quickly at the casual touch. 

Bjorn was right. She was as aware of Sven as she was of him. She could feel her body tensing, craving his touch though she would have sworn after last night that was not possible. She remembered that little voice in her head from the first day...the best sex of her life. But which? Both, she was shocked by that same voice. It was like Thai and Turkish. Both different flavors. Neither more pleasing than the other. 

But he was talking again and she feared that his version of a pop quiz might be tougher than the ones from her school days. He brought her arms behind her back. He knelt and carefully laced her fingers together. "Some Doms prefer this position," he said as he walked back around to the front. His hands fit inside the tight confines of the corset somehow. He grasped her breasts and lifted them out. He rolled the nipple until it was tender. 

"As you can see the advantage is that this position lifts those magnificent tits into full view. Knees together," he said and she obeyed as quickly as she could. "For me, I have never seen the advantage of that one...when I am with you, I want my cunt," his emphasis on that word had said organ practically leaking its juices onto the floor beneath her. For the first time, she was aware of the cold, hard wooden beneath her knees. 

"I want my cunt completely open and on view for me," Kirsty tried to breath as she felt his heat at her back once more. She felt his hand on her head and then he was pushing her head towards the floor as well. She panicked for a moment uncertain what he was doing but she quickly corrected herself as she felt her forehead touch the floor. 

He must have been kneeling too because she felt him...his cock brush against her bottom. She sucked for air that seemed too thin to breath. "This position I will want you to assume from time to time," she tried to concentrate on his voice but his fingers were exploring her...cunt...pussy...she felt herself leak onto his fingers just at the thought of such naughty words. 

But she was not prepared for what he did next. His fingers moved upwards, spreading the wetness around another area. She held her breath and remained completely still then. "You are a virgin here, yes?"

Kirsty started to nod, but then remembered his warning. "Yes, Sir," she said but she was not certain if he could even hear her as quiet as it came out. To be certain, she repeated her answer, "Yes, Sir."

One hand caressed the round curve of her bottom as a single finger on the other hand continued to swirl her juices around it. She could not even bring herself to think it. "You will not remain so. I will tell Bjorn...and Mikael, your ass is mine alone to train," just that word alone sent shivers down her spine, let alone what he was saying. 

"Not for some time, but one day, one day, our sweet wife, we will all enjoy your body at once," Kirsty could not stop herself from shivering then, she inhaled loudly at his words, the dark, depths of his voice that promised things she had only read about, things she had never imagined she would do. 

He must have bent forward then because she felt his hot breath caress the curve of her bottom. "Imagine it, Kirsten. Your sweet lips wrapped around one cock," his fingers dived lower sinking inside her wet folds as she cried out her release. Her eyes went wide as she could almost hear his voice whispering "come for me, my sweet Freya." 

But it was his brother's fingers that was plunging inside of her body sending her spiraling to such dizzying heights that she feared she would never come down. Then she felt something she had never known, a pressure, slow and steady against her ass...her body shot further into the stratosphere as she felt his finger slip inside that hole as well. 

She was completely mindless as one orgasm blended into the next so she was completely shocked when she felt something thicker and longer stretching her cunt open, plunging into its depths. But still that strong but steady pressure as his finger invaded her virgin ass. 

She would say that she lost count of her orgasms, but that was not possible when it seemed to be nothing but one very long one. Then she felt the heel of his hand resting against her ass cheek as he buried that finger all the way inside of her, she cried out...but it was not pain. It was different. A fullness she was not used to, especially with his thick cock buried to the hilt inside her pussy as it came harder than she could ever remember. 

"That is right, Kirsten. Imagine Bjorn's cock inside this sweet, tight cunt while I fuck your virgin ass," her eyes flew open, her mouth dropped as she exploded around his cock not only at the naughtiest of words, but at the very vivid image of just that act which she could suddenly picture so clearly in her mind. 

His other hand wrapped about her wrists which had remained laced behind her back. Lifted higher into the air by her position, he used the additional leverage to begin pounding into her harder and faster. She buried her face in the cold hard floor thrashing her head from side to side as the pleasure rolled over her and seemed to consume her like a raging inferno. 

She heard him roar as she felt his seed flood her, but still he pounded deeper and deeper within her cunt as it leaked down her thighs to pool under her knees until each thrust sent her sliding a bit closer to the door. After a couple of moments, his thrusts slowed until they were more controlled though no less deep. She could feel his cock each time it brushed her cervix. The intensity bordered on pain though pressure might have been more accurate. 

Then his hand released her wrists, she felt both his finger and his thick cock slip from her body with an almost audible pop. She was unable to stop the whimper at the emptiness she felt with his withdrawal. "Turn around, Kirsten."

Every muscle in her body screamed in protest. They had all turned to the slime that she used in sensory play with her children at work. She wanted to just seep into the floor, collapse in a mass and spread slowly across it. And he wanted her to turn around?

But the sharp slap across her still upturned bottom got her attention quick enough. "I said 'turn around.' If I have to say it a third time you will spend half the damned night standing in the corner," he growled. 

She turned around slowly and he was leaning back. His cock was still at full attention. His face dark and unreadable, "Now you learn how to suck my cock," he said.



Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 12



Sven fought hard to keep from laughing at the way those eyes revealed every fucking thought this woman had. His woman. Their woman, he reminded himself. He enjoyed the play of all her emotions then. The shock reminded him just how inexperienced a submissive...and a lover they had chosen. The curiosity though gave him hope that could be overcome in time. 

Was it not better to train her to his tastes...their tastes...from the beginning? Rather than try to untrain someone else's? And if she was inexperienced so much the better. She definitely was not unresponsive. If they gave her body pleasure that her other lovers had not, then it would bind her to them more surely, more quickly, more easily than he had hoped. 

But in this one, he could see that she needed a bit of...help. He leaned forward just a bit. It brought his body closer to hers as she knelt on all fours in front of him. His cock was just a couple of inches from her face as he brushed those long strands of hair back from her face. Once more he wrapped its silkiness around his fist. Though when he did, when he touched it, it always reminded him of that web and that he was merely the fly. 

As long as she never realized that, he thought as he spoke. "Another lesson, my sweet wife. Good girls always clean up their messes." He felt the gentle sway of her head as she began to shake her head. But she stopped herself, he smiled down at her. That touch of fear was there again and it sent adrenaline rushing through his veins. 

He put his baby brother's theory to the test with his next words. "And that is your mess, you cunt juices that was so fucking tight it milked the very life out of my cock, is it not?"

This time she nodded slowly. But just as quickly she remembered their earlier conversation, she might be a virgin in more ways than one, but her intelligence, her curiosity, and that oh so, submissive nature would make training her both easy and pleasurable. Oh so fucking pleasurable, as she whispered, "Yes, Sir."

"And you do want to be a good girl, do you not, Kirsten?" He always used the adulteration of her name with her. It would personalize what they had. She might always be Kirsty to everyone else, but she would be his Kirsten alone...and one day he hoped she would realize that. 

She nodded, it was a nasty habit that he would enjoy breaking. Then she breathlessly whispered, "Yes, Sir," and he smiled. Punishments could wait for another time.

"That is my good girl. You like ice cream, no?" he asked. "You enjoy licking them as they melt on a hot summer's day, yes?" He sucked in his breath as he watched his words dawn in that brilliant mind. "Yes, just like that. My cock is your ice cream cone tonight and your cunt juice must be licked off...completely...before it drips down." He knew he was pushing her limits, but that was the point. He wanted, needed, to see what they really were. How far would she go?

She crawled forward and his image of her changed from that spider with its web to the sexiest damned Tabby cat he could imagine. Not that furries or animal play had ever been his thing, but he had seen them in the clubs often enough. Women and men dressed as animals, taking on their mannerisms even. It did nothing for him...until he imagined her crawling across the floor like a cat, climbing onto his lap to be stroked and petted. That was a different story...she was a different story. 

That scared him. He wanted to keep this simple. Let Bjorn tangle himself in her sexy webs. This was supposed to be about one thing...breeding. His son. The next generation for Ægir's Captive. Pure and simple. But when he looked at her, it never was. 

Especially the way that she was looking at him now. Those big eyes were glued right to his cock as she reached out her hand slowly. "No," he growled. "Not this time. Your mouth only, Kirsten. Use that pretty little mouth like I told you."

"Yes, Sir," she whispered as she licked her bottom lip. He could almost imagine that would be how she looked at that ice cream cone on a hot summer's day. Like she wanted to devour it, but at the same time wanted to savor it too.

He smiled as she leaned her head in. Her tongue felt scalding hot as it made first contact with his shaft. So she began licking her cones from the bottom and worked towards the top. He was pleased. Even in this, they matched. It would one thing he would not need to correct her on. 

He tugged at those strands wrapped tightly around his fist, lifting her head just slightly. He wanted to watch her. He wanted to see those eyes, know her thoughts as they explored this unchartered territory together. "Look at me," he commanded. 

She nodded as much as she could with his hand wrapped so tightly in her hair. "Yes, Sir" she whispered and he felt the soft warmth of her breath caress the head of his cock. He automatically tightened his grip in that red web. Her eyes never left his as she finally swirled that hot tongue around it. "Good girl," he praised her efforts. 

"But there is more than simply licking, is there not? You are my greedy girl, are you not? You sometimes cannot wait, no? You must gobble your ice cream. Gobble my cock, Kirsten. Swallow as much as you can," he commanded and was pleased to notice that her nipples, which still hung out of the confines of that corset, hardened at his words. Baby brother definitely had her number when it came to dirty talk...and that pleased him too. Silent sex was never good sex.

She drew back for just a moment as she studied his cock as if trying to figure out how to do it. But he did not allow her to hesitate. His fist in her hair guided her head lower, almost forced it down onto his throbbing cock. 

He was tempted to close his eyes and just revel in feel of that warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock. But that would probably diminish his enjoyment. Half of the fun was watching her. Watching her discover things she had never known, pleasures she had never tasted. 

Honestly, he had had better blow jobs. Technically, she lacked finesse. But she more than made up for what she lacked in technique with the pure joy that she put into it. The other could be trained...and he would enjoy that too. But the way she looked at his cock...as if she were worshipping it. As if all she wanted to please him...that could never be trained or faked. Oh, his wife, might need a few lessons, but she was the best kind...a natural born cock sucker.

"Breathe deeply through your nose, Kirsten," he instructed as he began to lift his hips slowly, forcing another inch down her throat. She gagged as he knew she would. He softly caressed her cheek as he held her gaze, "Relax. Relax your whole body. Trust me."

***

Did he know the power of those words? Did he really understand what he was asking? What they were asking? The very idea of...doing what she was doing right now...it would have once shocked her. Hell, her friends would probably think it was sick. But she had to admit...it was not what she expected. 

It was not distasteful as she had imagined. Salty, earthy, natural. Like biting into an apple fresh and unwashed from the tree. Musky but sweet after that first taste. Something that she would definitely want to taste again...and again. A new addiction perhaps. 

And those eyes. They hid so much and revealed all at the same time. He was not just commanding her, asking her to trust him. No, he needed it. He needed her. He might not know that yet, but she did. This man, who from the stories that Bjorn had told, had never been a little boy. He was too serious. He worried too much. But that was because he cared too much...and he carried all of that alone. 

How could she not? How could she deny him what he needed? How could she withhold what was hers alone to give? She nodded her head and this time that would have to be good enough because there was no way in hell that she could say, "Yes, Sir," with half of his cock buried down her throat and the other half trying to join it.

But she willed herself, cued her body to his voice, and did as he needed...relaxing herself until she actually found herself melding into him, his will. She felt another inch of his hard cock slip down her throat unimpeded this time. He smiled just a bit and caressed her cheek again, "Good girl."

Kirsty felt her nipples harden, her cunt tighten at his words, those words from him. How could words that had once seemed to bind her to a life she did not want...the 'good girl' who went to the right schools, had the right kind of friends, choose the right job, married the right man...singular of course. She had been that 'good girl' and it bound her tighter than his ropes ever could.

But when he said it like that, when Bjorn did, it was like they gave her wings. She could soar. They broke the bonds that had held her captive her whole life. They freed her to be who she wanted to be. And right now, she wanted to be just that...his good girl. His. And his alone. 

She moved her head forward and once more found herself struggling against her body's natural defenses as she gagged. She felt tears sting her eyes until her vision blurred. Still she pressed forward, trying to get more of his cock...all of it down her throat. 

His laugh was rough, as rough as the man himself, as rough as the callouses on his fingers that were so tenderly caressing her cheek. "Enough. You will not learn to deep throat my cock like a porn star in one night, Kirsten." 

He leaned back and his cock slowly slipped from her mouth. Why did she feel so empty without it? Without him? She could not help herself as she leaned in, licked it slowly once more from base to tip, savoring the flavor of him, the feel of him. 

He shook his head and that laughter that she knew was as rare and precious as rain upon the desert fell around her and her heart danced in it. "But never fear. You will. You will deep throat my cock until your nose is buried against me. Until you wonder where your next breath will come from because it fills your throat so full there is no room for even air to pass." 

"And quit looking at me like you are disappointed. Know this...you have pleased me. You exceeded my expectations." Something told her that those words did not come easily from this man. That they were genuine. And that she would have to work very hard if she wished to hear them again. 

"Yes, Sir," she whispered as she gave a final lick to the head of his cock. She frowned, it was still as hard as before. Perhaps more so. 

His next words confused her, "Back on your knees as before. Fingers laced behind your back."

Confused or not, she obeyed instantly. Though she kept her head down, she could hear him moving about the cabin. Water running in the bathroom. Something creaking as it opened. Was it the toy box? She did not know how long she waited there...on the cold, hard wood. But she knew her knees began to ache. She knew that she had to flex her fingers to keep blood flowing freely to them. And she knew that she had to will herself to remain as still as possible. Her head down. As she awaited him...his pleasure. 

When he finally came into view, she saw three things. Those sexy feet. She would have to think about that one later. She saw his cock, it was not quite as hard as before, but still more than she could manage to get in her mouth. She licked her bottom lip as she thought, 'I would sure like to try.' And she saw the rope, coiled about his fist, just as her hair had been. 

She studied its light tan lengths. Bjorn was right. She tried to count the strands...three ply, maybe four. She liked to think it was four anyway. But then he was speaking and there was no room in her mind for his brother's words. Another thing to consider later.

"As sweet as that mouth of yours was, that is not what I want from you."

***

He bit back the words though they came easily enough to his mind...his babies, his sons. No, while he had enjoyed her almost innocent explorations. Could have easily allowed himself to give into the need. Allowed her to take him over the edge again. But not yet. Not now. Not until a baby grew inside of her. 

His baby. Their baby. He wanted to tell himself that it did not matter. His. Bjorn's. Even Mikael's. But that would be a lie. His son. That was what he wanted most from her, he told himself. Even though some voice at the back of his mind called him a liar. He was not ready to listen. A son...that was what mattered. That was what this was about.

He rubbed the rope against the side of her cheek, just as he had caressed it with his fingers. He knew that she did not fear it. That it ignited fires within her. But he wanted more. He wanted it to become a part of her. A part of them. Something that would tie them together. 

He felt her shiver. He knew that the night air was crisp this far out to sea. That the floor was cold and hard. But before they crawled into his bed beneath the warmth of the duvet, before he allowed himself to sink deep inside her warm wet depths, before he enjoyed the slow, easy fuck that he had been so looking forward to with this woman. Before he once more allowed himself the pleasure of release into her fertile body...and he knew it was. 

He would never forget that email. When they had agreed to meet, she had been adamant about two things...nothing was going to happen but if it did she would bring condoms. He had assured her that there was no need, that he was clean. But when he opened her reply to the words, 'it's about more than just that. I have not been on the pill since...well in months,' his cock had gone hard as a rock. No words could have made him want her more. 

But first, he had something else in mind. He stepped behind her. He measured out the rope. Tied off the anchor as he wrapped it about her neck. Her quick intake of breath as he cinched it into place caused his cock to harden and throb. He began the intricate lattice work that would lace up her arms, securing them firmly behind her back. 

It did not take him long. As he had told her, he had been working rope and knots practically since before he could walk. While she might have been attracted at first to the beauty of the ancient Japanese art of Shibari that had never been his thing. This was not art...this was domination. This was about controlling her. About marking her. This was about binding her to him on so many levels. He tied off the rope at the base of her wrists in the amount of time that it would have taken most ropers to just measure off the rope and cinch off the anchor around that slim, beautiful neck. 

He wrapped the rest of it around his fist. It was not as soft as her hair, but he had two hands. He was sure that the other one would end up tangled back in her spider's web at some point in the next couple of hours as he took her so slowly that it would be torture to them both. After all he was just another fly...caught...even as hard as he fought those silken strands. 

He tugged her to her feet. He took her deep sigh into his very soul as her body brushed slowly against his. He held the ends of the rope tightly so that she could not move away, could put no distance between them. His other hand brushed that hair back from her face, baring her shoulder. He let it trail slowly down her front, lingering over those lush tits, he nestled his cock fully between the warm cheeks of that round ass. 

It came to rest exactly where he wanted most...over her womb. He prayed to whatever was fucking out there, that even now that womb was filled with new life. That he gave her. The first time...this night. But soon. Soon. He bent his head and sank his teeth deep into the tender flesh of her shoulder. It was easier to bite her than bite back words that he was not even ready to think, let alone say. But this woman...this woman had him at hello. 

The truth was that the only Shibari that had ever caught his fancy was the photograph he saw of the heavily pregnant woman who was wrapped in a body harness. Her nearly bursting womb framed by the brightly colored rope that outlined its fullness, while carefully avoiding constricting the blood flow to the new life within. That was what he wanted with her. What he needed. 

Even if that damned voice in his mind told him that a baby was as much about binding her to him closer than any rope ever could...more than it was simply about a son to fish the seas long after they swallowed him for the last time. So he bit harder to fight even the thought.

***

Kirsty yawned as she snuggled deeper into Sven's arms. His shoulders were not quite as wide as Bjorn's. How did he manage to carry such much upon them, she thought as she shifted closer, trying to find just the right position. His still hard cock buried inside of her and the bindings about her arms as they stretched between them behind her back did not make that any easier, but then again in some warped sense that comforted her...made her feel secure, wanted. And very much captured.

She chuckled softly. That was exactly what she was trying to do...find the right position. With Sven. With Bjorn. Even with Mikael. But surprisingly the person she was finding it most difficult to find her place with was...herself. His ropes about her arms were a very real reminder of that. They were what had gotten her into this position to begin with...her curiosity about Shibari. 

And the man had skill. She could not imagine anyone doing this lattice that bound her arms together behind her back more securely. Yet at the same, it was comfortable. She occasionally flexed her fingers of course, to keep them from falling to sleep. But other than the position itself, the ropes did not abrade her skin. 

And it was Bjorn's words that played through her mind as she lay in Sven's arms. She had done as he said when his brother brought out the ropes this time. She had studied them and the man as he worked...as much as she could anyway. And the way that her whole body had tingled and come alive when he ran the coil of rope over her skin was a lesson she would not forget quickly.

She frowned. Were any of their lessons? She had immersed herself in those books for months. Read everything she could find on the subject of BDSM. She had spent way too many hours on that website and its forums. But none of it had prepared her for the past forty-eight hours? Fifty-two? A bit more? Nothing had prepared her for them.

And that still scared her. How could someone's life change so completely? So quickly? Her mind reeled from it all. Sometimes she still wanted to kick and scream as she had that first time this man had taken her in his arms, bound her with his rope. How could they expect so damned much of her so soon? More frightening...how could she just so easily give it? Surrender like this? But he had been right about that too: she had not been happy in her old life.

Would she be in this new one, she wondered. Could any woman really love three men? And what of the world in which they lived? How could she, how would they manage that? She giggled nervously as she imagined introducing them all to her parents. She would make certain to do it at the hospital where they worked...just in case.

She tried very hard to push back the one thought that had plagued her for the past few minutes as his hand rested so low over her abdomen. Every time he rocked gently behind her, his hard cock brushed against her cervix. It was not something she was ready to consider. She could not let her mind go there. But that did not change the fact that she had had unprotected sex...with two different men over the space of a couple days. 

Sven turned on his side just a bit more, once more his cock brushed against her cervix and she felt the tiny shiver of need flitter along her spine. "Go to sleep, woman. Tomorrow is a big day," he growled without even opening his eyes as his hand rested lightly over her lower abdomen. He tugged the rope in his other hand a bit and pulled her closer. Those fingers caressed her stomach so softly, so unlike the stern lover that he had been earlier. Had he considered it? The possibility? A thousand questions plagued her mind. But the rumble in his chest was all the warning he needed.




Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 12



And besides somehow in that moment, they fit. The new position, fitted so tightly against his body...it felt right. Too right. And that was what fucking scared her the most...how right they fit together. She fit as easily into this man's strong arms as she had his brother's last night. And something told her that given time and a bit of understanding she could even fit into Mikael's. 

Laying here in his arms...this was not fiction. This was not some sex starved writer's over-active imagination. This was real. As real as it got. She remembered something else too. Tomorrow Bjorn and Sven had said they would reach port. Their home. She remembered her promise to Bjorn too...not to run...to give them a chance. As if she could now...

But as comfortable as it felt wrapped in his arms...their arms...she could not get her head around it. How could one woman really love three men? Three brothers? All so very different? All needing something different from her? And what if...what if she were pregnant? She shuddered. 

But as satisfied and exhausted as her body was, it could not stay awake long enough to ponder such depths of the human mind and heart. All she knew was that she had found her spot in his arms and sleep would not wait. Maybe tomorrow would answer a few of those questions. She hoped anyway.



Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 13



Kirsty stood on deck looking out at the shore line as it came into view. She was fully dressed for the first time in three days. In her own clothes, jumper, mini-skirt and tights as well as boots and coat. When she woke she had discovered them on the table, folded and freshly washed. It was another reminder of how big a day this was. 

She watched the faint land in the distance grow closer. It was still too far away for her to tell much about it. What would it be like? What did it hold for her? She shivered as much in apprehension as the cold winds that whipped about her, lifting a fine spray that caressed her cheeks as he had last night.

The guys were all busy. She had no real idea doing what, but she could tell from their faces that now was not a good time to disturb them. Which meant it was the perfect time to observe them. Bjorn was doing something with ropes. She chuckled; she usually did not connect the two. Ropes meant Sven, who she assumed was busy above deck with other things at the moment. 

She rubbed her wrists slowly even though you could barely notice anything, she could almost still feel them. She had woken alone in his bed...untied. How did the man do that without waking her? But he had and honestly she wished he hadn't. When she woke alone, she had felt...well, alone. As she had not since...

Since they took you. Kidnapped you. Spirited you away from everything you knew. She would not say 'loved,' that would be a lie. But it had been her life, damn it. Some part of her still screamed that they had no right. While the other part, crossed her arms and laughed, whispering 'like your pathetic existence was half as good as falling asleep in their arms for the past three nights.' She shook her head at that voice. The big question was...which could she trust? Her head...or her heart? She wished she knew.

She frowned as Mikael walked over to Bjorn. She could not hear what they were saying, the wind and waves were so loud on deck. But she could see from the dark scowls on both their faces that it was not good. When Mikael took the rope and began re-doing the work that Bjorn had just finished, she feared that they would come to blows. She fought the sudden and irrational need to insert herself between the two brothers. But in the end, Bjorn turned his back and walked to the stairs that led to the deck where she assumed Sven was. 

She sighed as she watched Mikael wrapping and twining the rope. He worked with such ferocity. She could almost feel the anger boiling and churning inside of him just like the waves that beat at the sides of the boat as it sliced through them. Bjorn had told her very little, said he felt it best if Mikael told her in his own time. But he had shared that his middle brother had been married before...a real marriage, at least the legal, monogamous kind. He told her too that Mikael had a child, a little girl that lived with them. That fact combined with his attitude told her that things had not ended well with his ex.

She supposed that she would be meeting his child in a couple of hours along with their uncle and mother. This mysterious Petrine, a woman that had adapted to their way of life, had come to love four men, lost them one by one. A woman, who had raised three such... She sought for adjectives to describe the brothers. Strong for certain...and not just their physical prowess. Each had a depth of intelligence and character that intrigued her, though each was unique. Of course, she knew that each of the three claimed different fathers. 

She bit her lower lip again as the thought, which she had been trying to keep at bay, came crashing in once more. How did they know? Did they? Really? The coppery taste of blood mixed with the smell of seawater as she fought back tears. Damn them, damn them all. She was crying...again. 

Even if she could come to love three men, and the past couple of days, she had begun to believe that was more feasible than she would have imagined. The hard truth was that they would never be accepted. 'Be honest,' said that little voice, 'the problem is your parents, your friends. You cannot imagine explaining any of this to them. Let alone...oh by the way, I am not sure exactly who the father of your grandchild is.' She shivered against the cold or perhaps against the truth.

"Cold," his voice and warm breath caressed her cheek even as his hand on her shoulders rubbed them, spreading warmth. 'But what kind?' teased that voice in her head.

"A bit," she half-lied. "Where are we? How much longer?" 

Bjorn looked out over the waters. His face was drawn, there were dark circles beneath those Kelly green eyes and while he was still almost breath-takingly beautiful she was worried about him. She knew that he had been up most of last night with the watch. She blushed, part of it was how little sleep he had gotten with her the night before that. But still...

He smiled as he wrapped his arms about her and drew her against his body. "We are just entering the island chain, still in the Baltic Sea still. Another hour or so and we shall make Fjorthen. It is a small town just a few hundred people, not at all your London. We will dock and unload there. Sven spoke to Olaf this morning so I am sure that Mama and he will bring Monika to meet us there. They will not be able to wait to meet you."

She nodded, uncertain what to say or even what to think. It was not every day you met your 'in-laws.' What would they think of her? What was this woman really like? Kirsty admitted she was more than a bit intimidated at the prospects. With the exception of Mikael, who said very little, she knew that both Sven and Bjorn respected and adored the woman. She seemed almost a legend and Kirsty knew those were big shoes to be filled. 

"And the Holding?" she questioned, sticking to safer grounds.

That smile seemed to light his handsome face from within, "Not sure how long it will take to unload everything. But we will be home for dinner this evening. Mama is counting on that already," he laughed.

She thought about her own mother, tried to remember a single dinner that she had made for her. She could not. It was the housekeeper and nanny's responsibility to see to such things. How different this woman sounded from Nancy Dickens. 

She could almost see the tight way that her mother's face would scrunch up in obvious distaste if Kirsty were to introduce her to even one of these rough fishermen, let alone as her 'husband'...and husbands was more than she could even consider. She found herself back where she began that morning...what was she doing here? With these men, these strangers? 

"I have something for you," he said as he turned her in his arms. He opened his thick jacket and pulled out her tablet. She had been too caught up this morning in her musings to even miss it. "I have connected you to the satellite that we use on the boat and at home...your 3G won't cut it."

She nodded as she remembered trying to get a signal that first morning so she could alert someone to what had happened to her. And now? Bjorn had just handed that power to her. 

"Yes, I know," he said as if he could read her thoughts. His fingers beneath her chin lifted her face until she was staring into those green eyes once more. "You could have us arrested. I know that. And right now, Mikael would kill me if he knew what I have just done. Sven would just shake his head."

He caressed her bottom lip, "But you gave me your word that you would not run, that you would give us a chance. A few emails right now might make that easier. If you..." He leaned slowly down and brushed his lips so softly, so briefly, so sweetly against hers that she was reminded of the beating wings of a butterfly. "I trust you to make the right decision. I am trusting you with my life. My brothers' lives. And my niece's future."

Without another word, he released her and turned back to where Mikael was still working. His brother did not look any happier to see that Bjorn was back. But he shrugged and handed him another length of rope as he continued his earlier task. 

She stared at the tablet in her hand. It suddenly felt as if it had just been pulled hot from the blacksmith's forge. It burned as his words weighed down upon her. How could he? How dare he? She did not want that kind of responsibility. She had never asked for any of this.

It was hers nonetheless. And the very thought of any of them taken away in handcuffs...let alone all of them...sat on her stomach like an undercooked Doner kebab after a night of binge drinking in uni. Was it all just some warped Stockholm Syndrome? Identifying with her captors in order to keep herself alive. 

But staying alive was not the issue. She believed what they said: they posed no danger to her life anyway. Her life? Staying alive? Had she ever really been alive? Until she stepped through that turnstile. Until his hands on her pulled her through was more like it. She had lived more in the past three days than she had in twenty-six years. It seemed she had some thinking to do. 

She sighed with a final glance at the brothers. She had not seen Sven since she fell asleep in his arms last night. That was probably a good thing too. The man was hiding, but as she took the stairs down to the cabin that had been hers for three days, the cabin that was this man, she could not judge him. She was hiding too. 

She crawled back into the bed; the smell of sex most definitely still lingered. She blushed as her Internet browser confirmed his words. She opened her emails. Nothing important: social network notices mostly, dumb pics with even dumber sayings, too many drunken pub ones of friends from uni and even more cute kid ones from her friends, who had taken a different path. 

One caught her attention. She refused to open it as tears once more filled her eyes. She hit the compose button and began the message to her supervisor. She wrote and re-wrote it half a dozen times. In the end, she had settled for simple as she requested a three month leave of absence for personal reasons. Nothing more. 

But that unopened notice to the social media site reminded her that her email would need no further explanation to the kindly older woman, who had practically hovered since Raj had come in with the grainy photograph. If she were being honest, it was his announcement that had convinced her to accept Sven's invitation to coffee. 

Her lip was sore and getting more sore by the moment as she chewed upon it. Her hand went to her lower abdomen. Not that she wished that it was she who carried Raj's child. As she had told them, the hardest part of her break-up was realizing that she had wasted so many years on a man that she did not and never could love. No, that was not it. Although admittedly, his news had taken her aback so quickly after his wedding. 

The mouse hovered over the send button as the fingers of her other hand trembled. Was this the right path for her? It seemed so... phantasmagorical was the only word she could think of in the end. Kidnapped. 'Married?' To three men. Even possibly pregnant with no way of knowing which of her lovers fathered the child. Her mind screamed at the incongruence with everything she had ever known. And her heart pushed the send button on the email.

That left her two more to write. Her biggest dilemma was her cat. A cat? That was all that really tied her to the city in which she had lived for a lifetime? She explained to her flat mates that she needed a break and had decided to extend her visit to her friend's indefinitely. She thought about asking them to hold her room for her, but the truth was...

The truth is that no matter what happens you can never really go back there. She inhaled as the heaviness of that life weighed upon her. The tears were really flowing now as she asked them instead if they could look after Little Miss until she could make other arrangements. But she knew that would not be a problem as the cat had long ago become more shared property than the larger container of milk that they kept in the fridge rather purchase three pint ones. 

Her parents? That was a bit more difficult. She thought about putting it off for a while. Now that work knew what had become of her, they would have no reason to inform her parents. She was certain that her roommates would not bother to. Her monthly brunch with them had been just last Sunday so she had almost three weeks before they would even notice she was gone. Maybe she should just let it go for now? 

In the end though, what was the point of delaying it? She knew they would be disappointed in her for 'acting so illogically,' 'not considering how this might affect your future,' and a half dozen other maxims including just 'keeping a stiff upper lip' about Raj's impending fatherhood. They would never understand. They never had understood her. 

When it came, it was blessedly simple. Terse, her mother would claim. "I have taken a three month sabbatical to travel. I will be in touch." She forced her fingers to hit the send button on this one too before she turned off her tablet and set it aside. 

She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms about herself. The tears became a flood as twenty-six years of emptiness, loneliness, shallowness, trying to be what everyone else wanted her to be sprang forth like pus from a pimple when it finally popped. 

She did not know how long she cried like that, she only knew that at some point she lay down on the bed and grabbed the pillow. Holding it against her, she inhaled. She could still smell him...them. Three husbands...and she was crying all alone. About par for the course with her life...with men.

***

Mikael watched the woman sleep. Kirsty. His wife. The word tasted bitter in his mouth. Though he was committed for his daughter's sake, he did not like any of this. It was the absolute last thing he wanted.

Greta's hateful words during that final argument haunted him most nights. To know that his wife, the woman he had broken with tradition for, had attempted to seduce his brothers. If he had not been able to keep his wife's love in a monogamous relationship, how the hell would he do so in this warped thing that passed for marriage in their family?

'You don't want or need her love,' shouted that voice in his head. But the throbbing in his jeans and the tightness in his chest when he noticed how swollen her eyes were called that voice a liar. 

He shook his head. Baby brother needed his head examined and his ass kicked for this one. The risks that they were taking. Him most of all...prison, missing his daughter grow up. And why? Why would super hunk want to share a wife when he could have any of hundreds of women in any of the ports they visited? It was not like he was damaged goods with baggage that no woman would willing take on. 

Mikael knew he should be grateful. This arrangement could provide him what he wanted most...a mother for Monika and to be left the fuck alone. Now that she realized she could not manipulate him, he was sure that was the last time he would be called to her bed. Didn't last night prove that? Wasn't Sven her choice? Let his brothers have all the fun. As long as she was good to Monika, what did he care? 'Liar' that quieter voice accused. He had gotten good at ignoring it.

He just wished this particular conversation was over with. Explaining his daughter to this woman was not something he relished. But Monika's unusual behaviors would be enough of a shock, though he did hope that her work would prepare her for some of that. But to just spring his child upon her without any warning was too much.

So when Bjorn had said he would go below and warn her that they would be making port shortly, Mikael had insisted that he would do it. Bjorn had not been happy with that suggestion. It was as if now that she were here, his baby brother wanted to shut him out of this relationship completely. Again that voice demanded, 'but isn't that what you want?'

He sighed, right now, he wanted out of here. But that was not an option. Any more than letting this woman go. 'Would you really want to?' it tormented him with images of her blue eyes wide with trepidation and with excitement. He had thrown his worst, his darkest, at her and she had taken it all...and come like a very good girl all over his face. He licked his lips as if he could still taste her there though he knew he could not. Despite everything though he wanted to...again.

Damn, this was getting him nowhere, he thought as he reached out and gently shook her shoulder, "Time to wake up."

She stretched and it reminded him of his mother's plump black Tom cat, Noir. But when he saw just how red and swollen her eyes were, his need to take Bjorn out back, far enough from the houses that his mother would not hear them until it was too late. He wanted to pummel his baby brother's face until he was not quite so handsome. 

What had he been thinking? Kidnapping a woman from her home, her family, her job? He shook his head, she was no free-spirited hippie hitchhiking her way across Europe, seeking out adventure and free love. And he knew from experience, just how hard 'city girls' found the isolation and quiet of Fjorthen and especially of the Holding. 

For a couple of heart beats, he considered finding some way to help her escape, considered being that weak link that she had thought him that first night. But it truly was too late for that. She was theirs now. Theirs to keep...as best they could anyway. 

She rubbed those eyes with the back of her hand as she sat up. "Are we there then?" 

He nodded, "Yes, Bjorn and Sven will be tying up the boat shortly." He knew that he must do this, but all of the words he had practiced lying awake in his bunk last night...they simply vanished. He could not remember a single one of them. And he was left staring at her, thinking how beautiful she looked when she first woke up. He had made certain last time to get out of the cabin as quickly as he could manage. 

Though he had lain awake for hours, holding her while she slept and remembering that cry. He was not certain that he had ever felt as much a man as he did knowing that he had made this woman cry out like that. But it was best he put all of that behind him, it would not be happening anytime soon. 'It could if you bent a little, stopped pushing her away,' lied that voice. 

But Mikael pushed it aside again. He had come here with a purpose and whether he remembered the 'right' words that he had practiced so long or not, it still had to be done. His mother, father and daughter were probably waiting on the dock right this moment. "There is something I need to talk with you about."

She nodded her head as she sat up. He had forgotten that Bjorn said to take the woman tea. He could not even remember how his brother said to make it. But he could see that without it, she was having trouble waking up. Or maybe she just does not want to? Maybe she keeps hoping that this is all a nightmare? But there was nothing to be done about it now. They were stuck...both of them.

"My daughter will be there to meet us when we arrive." There, it was out. Not the pretty words that he had practiced, but since when was the truth pretty anyway. 

He was not sure what reaction he had expected but the shrug of her shoulders and slow nod of her head was not it. "Bjorn mentioned you had a child," was her response when it finally came. 

Mikael flexed his fingers at his side, imagining that they were wrapped tightly around his baby brother's neck. His voice was tight when he finally managed to speak, "He had no right."

She shrugged again but this time, she reached out her hand towards him. He jerked his back before she could touch him. Somehow, though it made no sense and was not fair, he felt as betrayed by her as he did Bjorn. "We were just talking about life on the Holding. I think he was trying to make me feel more comfortable."




Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 13



'Feel more comfortable,' it was something that had definitely not been his priority during their time together. Maybe it should have been. They had just told her what her future held, what their way of life was like. She must have been frightened, full of questions. 

And what had he done? Slapped cuffs on her, cut off the only clothes she wore, run his knife all over her body, cut her, tasted her blood and edged her until she went crazy out of her mind before he finally gave her the orgasm her body needed. And he wondered why his wife had left him? He was a jerk...which was why this would never work either. Not between them anyway, not with him, not what he wanted deep inside, what he would not even admit to himself.

He shook himself, there was no use thinking about things that could never be. Better to focus upon what was, "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing much really. Just that you had been married before. That you had a little girl that lived with you." Those big expressive eyes searched his face, seemed to plead with him, "Honestly, Bjorn meant no harm. He said that you would tell me what you wanted me to know when the time was right."

Mikael flexed his fingers again, "Yeah, well, he should have listened to his own words and kept his damned mouth shut."

She came to her knees. Between her height and the raised bed they were almost eye to eye, her hands fisted on her hips, "Yeah, well, we were just talking. Conversation. You know what that is? It was not like we did a whole lot of talking when..." 

He loved the way that her cheeks could flame almost as red as her hair. His arm went about her waist and drew her fully against his body. He was hard in an instant, "Conversation takes two, sweetheart. I don't remember you being able to put two syllables together at all. In fact, if I remember correctly the only words in your vocabulary were 'no' and 'YES,' his emphasis on that words had those cheeks flaming even more. 

He was not sure what would have happened then as the deep cough from the doorway behind him interrupted them. "Sorry to 'disturb' you, but we are docked. So unless you want Mama in this cabin that smells of sex, we need to get her on deck." 

Mikael wanted to knock the dark scowl off his brother's face, shove his smug words down his throat one at a time. But he knew that his baby brother was right. Their mother would not wait to meet this woman, their wife. He sighed, he hoped this went better than the first meeting with Greta. He nodded as he released the woman. 

Bjorn reached out to her with a smile and took her hand. Damn, his brother, he even brought it to his lips and kissed the back of her hand, "I can't wait for you to meet Mama. She is going to love you."

Mikael stepped aside as his brother drew the woman off the bed and down the hall. He followed slowly. He had no choice. His mother would read too much into his absence if he was not there too. But his brother's words ate at him... "going to love you." Petrine had never really liked Greta. Oh, the tried, but he could tell. Maybe that should have told him something? 

Not that it mattered now. The past was the past. The problem was, as he watched his brother beam as he presented his wife to their mother, the future was just as bleak. Locked on the outside, looking in. Pushed to the side with their wife too. Stuck in the middle...again. 

***

Kirsty was still fuming as Bjorn led her onto the deck. How dare he? How dare Mikael judge Bjorn for trying to put her more at ease when all he had done was... 

She did not have time to finish the thought as the small party that Sven was greeting came into full view. She did not know what she expected Petrine to look like. But this was not it. 

This was no frail elderly woman, weathered and beaten by the rough life of farming, fishing, raising three boys and loving four men. Yes, her hair was grey...more silver than anything. But it was long, hanging half way down her back in a feathery, layered style. Though her face showed fine lines and wrinkles, it glowed with health and a beauty that came as much from within. 

As they came closer she saw that the woman's still svelte figure could have graced a Paris runway or the cover of a magazine. Kirsty was tall for a woman, but this one was eye to eye with her, perhaps even an inch or two taller. And her shoulders were definitely not stooped. Her high cheekbones framed her full mouth as she smiled. 

If Kirsty had been a bit intimidated by the way that her sons spoke of this woman's strength, wisdom and courage to manage their lifestyle and love them and their fathers, she was even more so now that she realized what a beauty their mother was. She dropped her head and bit her lower lip as she considered her own full-figure, plus-sized body covered in freckles and topped with a head of wild ginger hair. 

Then there were arms wrapping about her once more. These ones were not thick and brawny though. But they were strong nonetheless as the woman drew her into an embrace. She rocked her from side to side, "Your pictures do not do you justice. You are more beautiful than we thought."

Kirsty blushed and struggled a bit in the woman's arms. She was not used to such displays of emotions. The most she had ever gotten from her own mother was a limp sideways embrace and a quick brush on her cheek that did not even leave stains from her bright red lipstick. This woman was full of surprises, but how could Petrine possibly think she was 'beautiful.'

But then she was being handed off to another set of burly arms. She stared up at the man. His face too was lined and weathered, perhaps quite a bit older than the woman even. But he too was still strong, full of life and from the lines about his eyes...laughter. Olaf was anything but an 'old' man sat out to pasture, waiting to die. She stared, tried to place those features, remember which of the brothers claimed this man. 

Then she remembered Mikael's words...my father and mother. Yes, yes, she could clearly see the resemblance. But so too could she see pieces of this man in Bjorn and even in Sven. Once more she was left to wonder...how did they know.

Then she was at the end of the line. A small head with light brown curls greeted her. Monika, she remembered the little girl's name. She reached out to her, but the child jerked back as if she had been scalded. Kirsty frowned as she watched Mikael try to draw his daughter into his protective embrace. But the child pulled away from him too. And Kirsty saw the pain of that rejection in his face. 

She frowned even deeper as the little girl squealed and turned her back on them all, rocking slowly back and forth as she reached out to touch the edge of the boat. She shook her head. This was all new to the child. Meeting this woman that would be her new 'mother.' That was what she was to be, was it not? There were still so many unanswered questions.

And Monika was one of them. She watched as Mikael bent down, tried to talk to his child, but again she pulled away from him. Seemed not to hear anything he said. Her frown deepened. How many single mothers had she worked with over the years? Had she not seen their struggles as they fought to give their child all that he needed? Was it really any different with this man? Yes, he had family to help, but the responsibility for his daughter's happiness still rested fully on his shoulders. 

She sighed as she watched them, father and daughter. She thought of her own father. He might not have been the tenderest of men, but he had done his best. She had always been closer to him than to her mother. But then too when she had needed him...to stand up for her when she wanted to try acting rather than go to uni...when she had wanted to play football instead of take piano lessons...well, he had never been any better at standing up to Nancy Dickens than she was. 

"Just give her some time and space," said the kindly voice. She turned to look up at the man, who would be the child's grandfather. 

She nodded and smiled shyly, "Yes, I work with...I worked with children back home." She caught herself quickly, that life was gone. How significant a simple tense of verbs could be? Those words had been hard to say. Like hitting the send button on emails that would change your whole future. Like drawing a line under one chapter of her life before beginning a new.

He nodded and smiled, "Yes, we know. And we are hoping that you will help us too."

She shook her head as she tried to understand what the man was saying, but then that bubbly woman was assailing her with more questions and a seemingly endless stream of conversation about the trip, her sons, the Holding. Her mind could not comprehend half it. 

She turned slightly and looked over her shoulder as he knelt there still trying to speak with the child, who just watched her hand run along the smooth wood. Something shifted inside of her. For the first time, she saw this man. Really saw him. Understood the pain. In his own way, he was locked inside his own world...every bit as much as she was coming to fear that the beautiful little girl was in hers. 

Then she shook herself, reminding herself that she was not a doctor, not qualified to diagnose anyone. She had spent so many years working with special needs children, with autism, that she was probably just imagining. Reading things into 'normal' behavior for a shy child. Still that little voice whispered loudly...'they need you.'



Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 14



If it could be called that. If Tilbury had been sleepy and laidback little town, then Fjorthen barely qualified as a village. A couple of dozen wooden framed houses, some on stilts as the waters came right under them, a single high street and one shop that was store, post office and café all rolled into one. 

She observed the woman that she supposed was her 'mother.' She still was having trouble reconciling this vivacious and stunning woman with the image that she had built in her head. From the moment that she had stepped on board Ægir's Captive, she had taken control. Kirsty smiled at the way the woman directed them all like they were an orchestra and she the maestro. 

The shop keeper smiled as they entered. She greeted them in a language that Kirsty tried to place...vaguely a mix of the French which she knew well and German of which she knew only a few words. It made her uncomfortable that she could not understand anything that they said, but the woman seemed to be delighted at whatever Sven said to her.

While Sven and Petrine chatted with the woman, Olaf drifted off from the main group to greet a handful of older men who were playing chess as they drank coffee. They laughed loudly at something he said. Mikael had his hands full trying to keep Monika from touching every single thing in the shop. Kirsty frowned and considered approaching them. But she really had no idea where she stood in this situation...with him in particular. Would he resent her intrusion? 

"What do you think?" Bjorn's voice caressed her mind as he laced his fingers through hers. "I know that it is nothing like your London, but it is home...to us anyway," she wanted to laugh at how sheepishly he looked at her.

She shook her head, "I guess some part of me is surprised that a place like this still exists...it is lovely. Really. Like something you would see in a painting."

He chuckled, "Don't be deceived. We all have satellite TV and the Internet. Not even Fjorthen can escape the twenty-first century." He nodded towards his uncle and the older men, "Even if some of them still complain about it."

Before she could ask anything else, Petrine and Sven joined them. "We should get a table. Adelaide will bring the food shortly." She smiled once more at Kirsty, "I know it is a bit to take in all at once, but we will chat later," she said before she glided across the room to the men. 

She greeted them with a smile as she placed her arm lightly over Olaf's shoulders. Her laughter seemed to rise above all the others at something one of them said. "If you are finished, Old Man, the food will be here shortly," she directed at Olaf in English. Kirsty got the feeling it was primarily for her benefit. 

The man had a twinkle in his eyes as he slapped her jean clad behind. Kirsty was more than a bit envious...her butt would never look that good in jeans. And this woman was at least sixty. As friendly as Petrine had been, she could not help feeling even more inadequate. 

Olaf stood and wrapped his arms about her, drawing her tightly into his embrace as he said his farewells to his friends. Kirsty frowned as she saw the looks that the couple got once they had turned their backs on the group. Lust. Envy. Disgust. It was all there. She shook her head and reminded herself that this was a different culture, perhaps as with Monika, she was just reading things into the situation that were not there. But the stiffness in Sven's body next to hers and the dark scowl upon his face said that perhaps she was not. 

When the couple re-joined them though, they were all smiles. Petrine took her hand and pulled away from Olaf, "We have so much to talk about. I have waited so long for this day. I know I must seem incredibly pushy. Blame it on my Americanism, everyone else does," she smiled as she led her to the largest table at the back of the shop. Kirsty glanced over her shoulder to see all of the guys falling into step behind them. 

But it was the looks from those men that froze her blood and set off all too familiar anxieties in her. It was not just Petrine and Olaf, but now her as well. It made her feel...dirty somehow. She fought back tears. Then Sven stepped forward, blocking her view of them. His hand went to the small of her back as he bent in, whispering in her ear, "Keep walking, Kirsten. Ignore them."

She looked up into his face, ready to argue that it was not that easy. But the hard look in his eyes dared her to say anything. Then he smiled, though she could tell it was forced, it relieved some of tension, gave her a bit of courage as he held out a chair for her. He brushed a brief kiss on the top of her head as he pushed the chair forwards. She frowned, had he purposefully seated her so that her back was to the men? 

Olaf and Petrine took seats across from her, leaving the two at the end open for Mikael and Monika when they joined them. So Kirsty found herself squeezed in between Sven and Bjorn. She could not stop his naughty words from last night flitting through her brain, but that only made things worse. 

Maybe something was wrong with her. Maybe she deserved those stares. She looked down at the white table cloth as she felt those tears burning in her eyes again. She tried to hold them back, tried to focus upon the conversation going on all around her. When she finally found the courage to look up, Petrine smiled at her knowingly. The older woman reached across the table and put her hands over hers. 

She would never know what the woman would have said though as the food began to arrive. Mikael brought Monika over and the little girl was sandwiched between him and his mother. The woman seemed to soothe the child though the girl would not eat and kept fidgeting in her seat. 

The meal was peppered with more loud conversation some in English for her benefit and others in at least one other language...maybe two, she was not certain. As the meal progressed though it became harder and harder for the child to remain quiet. She was not particularly interested in food at the moment anyway so she suggested, "How about I take Monika for a walk?"

She was certain that they would decline her offer from the dark scowl on Mikael's face but Petrine spoke first, "That would be lovely, dear. There is a small park behind the school. Mikael will show you where it is. We won't be much longer then we will all join you."

It was not exactly the response she wanted. Remembering their time in the cabin that morning, she had hoped to avoid being alone with this man for a while. But she supposed it was best. After all Monika did not know her yet, so perhaps it was best if her father joined them. So she nodded and held out her hand as she stood. "What do you say, Princess? Would you like to go to the park with me?"

The little girl did not answer. Well, no words, not even a nod of her head. She just kept looking to the side somewhere. But she was out of her seat in an instant and trying to push past her father, who impeded her progress. This seemed to frustrate her though and she squealed. 

"Let her go, Mikael. She will be fine. She knows her way to the park," said Petrine. With a smile to Kirsty, she added, "Just keep her in sight so she does not get distracted and wonder off." 

Monika nodded and followed the little girl, who was already heading out the door. She did not even look back to see if Mikael was following them. But the woman seemed to be right as the child took a muddy path at the side of the store, it was too small to be called a road and the stones that paved it were loose. It was only fifty yards or so until they came upon another building, this one was stone and two story with a wide cement walkway leading to wooden double doors.

The child went right past the doors and disappeared around a corner. Only then did she notice that Mikael had followed them as he overtook her and called out for his daughter. Kirsty raced after him but there was no reason for alarm. Monika had found a swing and was happily rocking back and forth in it. She was not able to gain enough momentum to actually swing but that did not seem to matter to the child. 

Mikael slowed as he approached his daughter, speaking to her in that language. Kirsty was not certain if he would welcome her intrusion so she hung back a bit, watching them interact from her perch near the small picket fence that surrounded the play area. There was not much in the park: a double swing set, a climbing frame and a slide. The little girl seemed to bounce happily from one activity to the other, barely noticing the father that hovered and spoke quietly to her on occasion.

Kirsty frowned; not once did the child look her father in the eyes, nor did she speak other than to grunt or squeal once in a while if she did not immediately get what she wanted. She felt pieces of an all too familiar puzzle falling into place. She shook her head as she reminded herself that she was not a psychologist or a pediatrician. She was not qualified to make a diagnosis that required a full history and a battery of exercises to evaluate. But she had worked with hundreds of Monikas for almost five years...and she could not help but see the truth that was staring right at her...even if the child was not. 

Other truths were too. It was obvious from the way this man followed after his child that he loved her very much. Although she had worked almost exclusively with Mums, many of whom were single, Kirsty knew a concerned father when she saw one. The way he pushed her on the swing, stood extra close as she climbed on the frame, just in case she fell. He even clapped when she came down the slide...head first. That made it hard to stay mad at the man, damn him. As much as she wanted to, she found herself smiling at them.

"He loves her very much," that feminine voice said from behind her. She turned to see Petrine and Olaf walking up the path. She smiled and nodded in greeting as the older woman pushed open the gate that she was standing next to.

"But my granddaughter needs more than I can give her," she frowned. "I guess you have noticed, she is not a 'normal' five year old?"

Kirsty simply nodded, "She won't talk...or maybe she can't. Oh, she says a few words...mostly 'no' at the top of her lungs and our names...sort of anyway. But that is it." The woman shook her head and her long silver tresses moved against ivory skin, "Well, honestly, I am hoping that you might know more than we do," she smiled as she held out her hand. 

Kirsty did not want to seem rude so she took it. This woman seemed so much more...touchy, feely than she was used to. She looked down at the grass, what little of it survive the mud, "I am not doctor. I can't really diagnose these sorts of things," she stammered.

"That is not what I meant, dear. I...we...don't want her tagged with anymore labels. But I suppose what I am saying is maybe, once you are settled, once you know her better, well, maybe you would have some ideas we could use to reach her," Kirsty could hear the way the woman's voice broke even before she looked up to see tears glistening in green eyes that reminded her so much of his. 

She could not help, but nodding, "Of course, if I can. If..." She caught herself, uncertain how much she should reveal to this woman...his mother.

"If what, Kirsty?" the woman said, reaching out and lifting her chin. Maybe that was where the boys got that from. But when this woman did it, she felt like a schoolgirl again, trying to hide something from her mother. 

"If he doesn't mind...if he won't get upset for me interfering...I really don't know what he expects or wants...where I stand with her...or him?" She had not meant to say anything, yet one stare from this one and all of it came bursting forth.

Petrine chuckled and drew Kirsty into another of those embraces, "Oh, dearie, you and I need to have a long talk," the way that the woman emphasized 'long' made Kirsty want to laugh. "But it can wait until we get back to the Holding. Sven and Bjorn have gone with Adelaide's sons to unload the ship. In addition to the fish, they bring back supplies to stock her store," she explained. 

"Then we will be heading home," she motioned to Mikael, who collected the reluctant girl. "You may ride back with Olaf, Monika and I...if you prefer."

Mikael frowned as he heard this, "I'll come with you too."

His mother gave him what Kirsty could only describe as a wuthering look. Not that she was not used to such things, it was the norm for her relationships with her own mother. But it just seemed so out of odds with what little she had seen of this woman. "Suit yourself, Mikael," was all she said as they turned and walked back through the town. 

The little girl was fine, skipping along the narrow lane for pedestrians, until her father tried to take her hand as they crossed the street to the small docks where Ægir's Captive was berthed with a handful of other smaller boats. She squealed and pulled away from her father. She would have even run into the street, which admittedly was not as dangerous as it sounded since there was little traffic. In fact, there was only one car in the distance. 

But Olaf reacted quickly for a man his age, holding her back with a firm tug on her shirt collar. "Stop, look and listen, Monika."

The child stopped and nodded her head, she even managed to look in the man's general direction for a moment. "Good girl," said the older man and an odd tingle shot up Kirsty's spine. 

"Thanks, Papa," Kirsty could hear the begrudging tone in Mikael's voice.

But the older man ignored it as he guided the child across the road with the back of her shirt, "She is learning, Mikael. It will just take you a couple of days to catch up, son," he smiled.

Whatever Mikael might have said was lost in the loud whistle and catcall that came from the only other large fishing boat that they were passing. Instantly, Olaf and Mikael shoved the three females behind them. The men almost bristled...their shoulders back, chests out. The oddest image of artic wolves encircling and protecting their pack whispered through Kirsty's mind. 

Then everything happened so quickly. One of the men called out something in that language. Kirsty did not know what but from the blush on Petrine's face and the way that Mikael and Olaf took two steps towards the boat, she knew it could not be good. Out of thin air Sven and Bjorn suddenly stood shoulder to shoulder with them. Sven called back something to the men.

For a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, the two groups of warriors stood facing one another. Then the man, who had spoken for the group, spat on the wooden planks at their feet, he shrugged and turned his back. The other men followed after a moment with backwards glances at them. Then slowly the tension drained from their protectors. Petrine said something to Sven, but he just shook his head and scowled at his mother. 

It was over as Bjorn stepped forward and brushed the hair back out of her face. "What happened? What did that man say?" Kirsty demanded.

He inhaled deeply and plastered on that forced smile, "Nothing. It does not matter. Don't worry about it. You will go with Mama and Olaf in the car. Sven and I will bring the boat home up the fjord."

She wanted to stay, wanted to argue that she had every right to know what was going on, but Petrine stepped forward and took her hand, "Come on, dear." 

***

Mikael stared out the window as the familiar country side passed by. It was swampy. The road was windy like the dot-to-dot puzzles that he tried to get Monika to do. It connected small island to small island, broken by the occasional bridge between them. Some of the islands were so small that they could not support life, others were populated by only trees and birds. Some had a house or two sprinkled on them. None were as large as the Holding. 

But right now, none of that mattered. He was in a foul mood. If their conversation this morning had not been bad enough, the way that she just hung back...saying nothing, do nothing...made him doubt this whole thing. Perhaps they would have been better off with the Russian woman at least she was a mother herself. Perhaps this one had no interest in his daughter because she was not one of her patients. 

Then the other. He did not want to even think about it. He should be used to it by now. They all should be. But still...sometimes...it just got to you. He gripped the handle of the door. He wished his father had let him drive at least, but the old man knew him too well. He could not argue, he did not belong behind the wheel with the three females in the car.

If that was not bad enough, suddenly Monika grew tired of being strapped into her booster seat. She began crying and rocking back and forth, pulling at the strap across her chest. He tried to calm her but the moment he touched her, she let out an ear piercing scream and drew back, arching and fighting to get out of the seat. 

The woman, Kirsty, his wife, looked at the child. He gave her his sternest look, he did not need some smart ass comment from her about 'controlling' his child right now. Instead she reached into her bag and pulled out something. It took him a moment to realize that it was her damned tablet. Fair enough, he supposed her sticking ear phones into her head and listening to music was better than that comment he dreaded.

But instead of head phones, it was that popular song...the one from the movie that Monika could not get enough of. The woman did not offer the tablet to his child, in fact at first she seemed to ignore her completely, focusing all her attention upon the song and video that went with it. Nonetheless, it worked. Monika quieted. Not completely, she still fidgeted in her seat. But her tiny body was no longer so tightly strung with tension that he feared she would break and she was no longer screaming.

Then he noticed that she had tilted the screen so that Monika had a better view of it than she did. When the song came to an end and his daughter began to fidget once more, she hit the replay button. "Is it much further?" she asked no one in particular.

"About another ten or fifteen minutes," his father replied from the front.

She nodded her head, "The seat belt is probably bothering her. Is there some place where we can pull over and let her get out for a bit? Run and play just to burn some of it off."

His mother turned in her seat and smiled. He shook his head at her...'I told you so.' "Not really, dear. Here is Joey though," she replied handing him back the stuffed kangaroo that was his daughter's favorite. Monika snatched it before he could. And between the stuffed toy and the music she seemed satisfied enough to make it the short distance remaining to the Holding. 

He still was not completely convinced, but he relaxed just a bit as he watched the two heads, one deep red and the other smaller one light brown bent together over the tablet. Time would tell...only time. But time was the one thing he always felt was running out...if he was to reach his child. Watching them, he wanted to hope that this woman held the key. But hope was not something that came so easily to him anymore. 

He turned back to stare out the window as a new song...another one from that movie blared from the machine. "This is my favorite, sweetie," said that voice that did funny things to his gut. He could not help but listen to words about true love saving them all. But sometimes...love was not enough to hold onto what you wanted most...

***

By the time that the older model Land Rover pulled up in front of the red wooden frame house that was similar to those she had seen in town, only larger, Kirsty was not sure who was more tense...her, Monika or him. But the tiny space was filled with silent, nervous tension that felt like they would all explode at any moment.




Ӕgir's Captive Pt. 14



That was pretty much exactly what the little girl did the moment that the car stopped in front of the house. She fumbled with the seat belt until Kirsty assisted her, then she was pushing past her father and trying to open the door. He smiled at her efforts and opened it. And she was off...like the horses out of the gate at Ascot. 

The rest of them piled out of the car. Petrine reached for her once more, taking her hand, "You, guys, go and help Sven and Bjorn. Kirsty and I will go after Monika. It will give me a chance to show her around a bit."

Mikael was scowling...again. But his father did not give him a chance to say anything as he put his hand on his shoulders and guided him towards the dock that she could see behind the house.

Petrine turned to her and smiled once more, "Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. Walk with me and we can have that talk. Monika will be in her play area near my greenhouse. It is just over there," she said as she nodded towards a stand of trees. The undergrowth had been cleared out so Kirsty would not consider it a forest but the mix of hard wood and conifers stood like centurions guarding the gates of this place. 

She found herself following along after the woman, looking around as she went. Quiet, peaceful, tranquil...none of them seemed to adequately describe this place. She inhaled deeply smelling the mixture of loom, pine and the sea. This place, nature, relieved some of the tension inside of her. 

When they came out of the trees into a clearing, she could almost imagine it blooming with wildflowers in a few months. But now, it was preparing for the winter which lay ahead, the grass tall and tan as it blew in the brisk late autumn winds. As the woman had said the little girl was happily swinging on a play set that was larger and much more elaborate than the one at the school. What was more, she noticed a pink wooden play house, a sand box and a tricycle strewn about the area.

"My sons spoil her as you can see," smiled the woman. She reached out a hand and brushed back a strand of hair that the wind had blown into Kirsty's eyes. Or that was the excuse she was using for the tears that burned her eyes at that moment. 

Then she was wrapped in those arms. She had no choice but to go as the woman held her tightly. "Let it go, sweetie. Let it all out," those were the words that Kirsty felt she had waited a lifetime to hear. In that sweet maternal way that she had always imagined. She could not fight it. Any more than she could fight Bjorn when he looked at her that way. It all came out then. A life time of tears that 'good girl' had held back. 

She did not know how long they stood there like that. Her crying and blubbering over this woman, who was a stranger. But when she came to her senses, she tried to pull back. Looked down embarrassed at the muddy ground, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," she mumbled.

The woman laughed, "My sons, I imagine. They can be a bit...overwhelming."

Kirsty reluctantly looked up at her with a smile. Somehow as hard as she fought it, she felt connected to this woman. It was different, of course, but the feeling was just as strong as she had felt that day when she looked up into Sven's face as he pulled her through the turnstile. And the smile, on the woman's face that still shone with the beauty of her youth even through the lines, wrinkles and silver hair, said that she felt it too. 

They stood silently watching the child play for a couple of minutes. It was odd. Most people would be uncomfortable with such things, but this was not like that at all. It was as if the silence spoke louder than any words could. It was that silence that finally gave her the courage to ask the question...one of them anyway...that had been on her mind at least for the past hour or so, "What did that man say?"

Petrine turned to her and sighed heavily, "My sons would not want me to answer that question. But I never liked the way that they and their fathers always tried to shield me from such things. I don't get the feeling that you do either. I will tell you...it was not pretty. But if you honestly want to know I will tell you," this time her smile was tighter as if this weighed as heavily upon her as it did upon Kirsty.

She looked over to where the child played carelessly upon the swing. She wanted to be like that...in her own world, oblivious to it all, not caring what anyone said. But as much as she wanted that, she could not overcome the trainings of a lifetime where what other people thought mattered more than what you wanted. "I am not sure I want to know, but I need to, don't I?" she asked turning back to the older woman.

"As wise as you are beautiful, my boys did well," this smile reached those dancing green eyes that she had gifted to her youngest son. Then they clouded over once more, "My Swedish is not quite as good as my Finnish, so I cannot say word for word, but the gist of it was...asking if my sons had found another whore to service the lot of them and breed another generation of mongrels. That if you wanted to enjoy real men they would 'entertain' you for a bit."

Kirsty had not known what she expected but something so vitriolic was beyond even that. She felt her knees begin to buckle as her hand flew to her mouth and tears stung her eyes once more, "Oh my god," was all she could say. 

The woman lifted her, just held her for a long moment. She trembled as those words played through her mind, but there did not seem to be any more tears inside of her. Finally, the woman pulled back just enough so that she could stare into her face. 

"It has been over four decades, sweetie, since I visited your home land. But do you know what struck me the most when I traveled there?" Kirsty shook her head as the woman continued though Kirsty was not sure what any of this had to do with what was paramount in her mind, "No one smiled. You could walk down the streets of your London. Pass thousands of people, all the same, their heads down as they rushed about...and not a single smile from any of them."

She turned her back so that Monika filled her cloudy vision, "Worst of all, I remember the children. Tiny little things. All dressed exactly alike in their grey wool skirts and shorts. Stiff white shirts buttoned up and matching sweaters. I remember them too marching in their lines early in the morning to school." She paused and brushed back that hair which once more had blown into Kirsty's face, "And none of them smiled either."

"Life comes at a price. It always will, sweetheart. Those sons of mine are the direct descendants of the Jarls and Kings that once ruled these islands. Like those strong men, they make their own rules. And like the villagers and warriors than once followed their ancestors, few people have the courage to call them on it. Oh, it happens, like today, but that is rare. But I will not lie to you...making your own rules comes at just as high a price as following everyone else's."

She sighed and studied Kirsty's face. She wanted to look away, feared that this woman would find her lacking, inferior, not good enough for those kings that she had born and raised to be such men, each fine in his own way. But as much as she wanted to look away, this woman deserved so much more than that, so she met that gaze just as boldly.

"Kirsty, if that life is what you truly want, then I will personally take you to the main land. Place you on a plane and see you safely back there. I promise you not a one of my sons will dare cross me on this one. But like me, I don't think that is what you want. I believe that you are willing to pay the price...and trust me it is a relatively small one...for making your own rules," she finished.

Her words shook Kirsty's world like an earth quake. Somehow this woman had looked into her very soul and hit upon the very dilemma that haunted her. Not just for the past few days, but a lifetime. The only difference was that now she had an option besides merely pushing on with all the others, unsmiling and unhappy. The past three days she had seen that, they had given her that. This woman's sons. But did she have the courage to take it? That was the question.

"How do you do it?" she whispered.

The woman's laughter was rich and as fragrant as this place, like coming home...and that was how she felt. For the first time in her life, Kirsty could almost believe this place, this woman, her sons...it could be home. If she had the courage to reach out and take it.

"Mostly, I ignore it. The other thing is that I make myself indispensable to them. There are not too many things that I learned from the few times my grandparents drug my wild ass to their strict Pentecostal church when I visited them in the summer. But one was something about kindness heaping burning coals on the heads of your enemies. I always liked that image," she winked.

"When I first got here like you, I did not speak either Finnish or Swedish. English, some French and a few words of German were all I had to get me by. But it did not take me long to figure out that these people were talking behind my back. It bothered me. But then again I was only in town a couple of times a month to shop. So I was happy to just pretend I did not see their stares...I still do sometimes," Kirsty realized then that this woman had not been as ignorant of those men in the store as she had seemed.

"When Sven went to school, it all came to a head. He was already reading by then. With his fathers at sea, I had long periods alone with my son...and five almost six years before Mikael came along. So I sent him to school reading and doing basic math, way ahead of the other children. So I was not worried too much. But when I picked him up that afternoon, he had a split lip and a black eye. The principal, head master I think you would call him, met me at the door. There had been a fight. Sven was suspended for three days," she frowned at the memory.

"Poor kid," Kirsty frowned, trying to even imagine Sven as a child was beyond her.

Petrine laughed again, "Poor Sven my ass. My son might have had a black eye, but the bully who was three years older had a broken arm. When I got my son home, lecturing him all the way about not fighting mind you, he did not want to tell me what happened. It was Stig, who finally got it out of him, including the words 'whore' and 'slut.' That was the only day that any of my boys spent in that school. And she won't either," the woman said nodding towards the child.

"So again I ask...how do you do it?" Kirsty felt weighed down by the isolation this woman must have felt, perhaps still did.

But the smile on her face said she was anything but to be pitied. "I had my boys and their fathers," Kirsty blushed as she could well imagine what that secretive smile truly meant. "And Stig built me my greenhouse," she said as she nodded towards the glass building that was truly the size of a small house. Kirsty saw shadows across the woman's face and wondered what she was thinking...was she remembering those days? Happiness that was gone? The man who had built it? She tried to imagine how she would feel in this woman's shoes but it was more than she could manage. 

Tears glistened in the woman's green eyes when she turned back to her, "And once Bjorn was older and took to the sea, well, I found things to keep me busy. I teach in that school now. Not full time mind you, but I instruct the older ones in creative writing and ancient mythology every year. I also work with the local nurse practioner, we are too small to have a doctor here. But we can handle most things. A lot of my plants these days are medicinal and I dry those and share them with those in need. I am even the first one there with a cake when someone dies or a new baby is born. I have not worked up the nerve to go to church yet...afraid I might go up in flames with my pagan self," she laughed.

She looked her in the eye as she continued, "But they take it all, the people in the village. Adelaide Johansen is the worst, biggest gossip of them all. Yet without my sons picking up stock for her on their journeys that store of hers would be closed down like so many of the other shops have in other villages." Kirsty nodded once more trying to imagine how that made this woman feel...her sons too.

But she continued her story without pausing, "I feel their eyes on my back when I walk away though. I hear their whispers. And I hold my head high, knowing that none of them have been as loved or as happy as I have been for a lifetime. It is not easy, but then again nothing worth having ever is. So I ask again, do you want me to fight Olaf for the keys?" 

"Fight my boys, knowing that I am hurting them more than they already have been? Because I will, if this is not the life you want. I have had one 'daughter' that could not...or did not want...this life. And she tore my boys to pieces, opened chasms in them that are still growing larger. If you honestly want your old life back, if you cannot allow yourself to love them, then tell me now...and I will. You have my word on that," her face reminded her of Sven when he got that 'look,' the one that withered her inside, that said he knew everything in her mind. 

Kirsty felt as if this was the single most important moment of her life. As if she stood at a crossroads and everything rested upon which she took. She weighed what the woman said...and all that she had not. And she shook her head slowly, "No, no, I don't want to go back."

Petrine beamed then. The woman glowed from within, like one of those cheesy movies where the angel reveals itself with backlighting. Then once more Kirsty was absorbed into those arms. This embrace was tighter than all the others. As if the woman did not want to let her go, her words seemed to confirm that, "I have waited a life time for this moment. Wanted a daughter for so long. Welcome home, Kirsty. Welcome home."

It was the woman who was crying uncontrollably then. And while she tried, Kirsty was not sure she did a very good job of comforting her...she did not have much experience with such things. Her meager efforts must have worked though because then she was laughing.

"All right then, you need some lessons on how to control those guys. You need to learn...you are the one in control now. And you need to use that control wisely. Oh, we have so much to talk about," the years melted away from her face and in addition to be what Kirsty had always imagined a mother should be, Petrine became the girl friend that she had never really had. That best friend with whom you shared everything. 

Maybe she was right...maybe this life would not be so bad after all.