Bride of Grendel: A Viking Lore Erotic Tale (Viking Lore Erotic Tales Book 2) (2 page)

              She stared into the flames. The warmth of the fire was making her drowsy. She let her thoughts drift over the past months as Hrothgar's queen. If he had ever made any pretense of marriage to his sacrificial brides, he had given it up by the time it was Sigrun's turn. It was Unferth who made the arrangements, Unferth who escorted her to Heorot. There was a wedding ceremony, and the denizens of the hall showed a sort of wolfish good cheer. Everyone drank heavily. When Hrothgar retired to his bedchamber, Unferth followed with Sigrun. She wasn't sure what to expect — would the king consummate the union? She disliked the thought of the horrible man's fingers on her flesh, his mouth against hers. The thought flashed through her mind that she might just be strong enough to snap his neck, if the opportunity presented itself. But perhaps that was why his man Unferth was here as well. And one shouldn't underestimate the reserves of strength left in old warriors. No, Hrothgar would probably be hard to kill. But the opportunity would not present itself. Hrothgar burrowed into the furs on his bed and swiftly fell asleep. Unferth waited a while with Sigrun — she realized it was just a matter of appearances, her following the king to his bed on their wedding night — and then escorted her outside to the turf prison that would be her home.

              Unferth had been her companion ever since. When she was allowed outside, he accompanied her. She was never allowed into the woods — too dark, too dense, too easy to lose oneself in them — but she could spend hours on the open expanse of the shore. She loved her walks on the beach, the wind whipping her hair around her face, the vastness of the water making her life seem small, reassuring her that maybe it would not be such a hard thing to give up. One day, when Unferth for some reason had allowed her to walk beyond the sandy flats and climb up onto a rocky outcrop, she stood at the edge of the sea cliff and considered casting herself into the water, breaking herself on the rocks below, then and there. Why not rob the King of his sacrifice? Why not chose her fate and let the sea have her, instead of the monster? Unferth had let her get ahead but was now approaching. She would have to do it now, and she was on the verge of taking the step, allowing herself to fall, when he called out.

              "You could escape this way, but you will die, and he will take another bride. The creature must be sated. You will buy your freedom at the cost of another maiden's life."

              She paused, and he was there, breathless, taking her by the arm, folding her in his arms, holding her tight and close. She knew that he wanted her, that he found her beautiful. She had seen it in the way he looked at her. Now she felt it in his embrace. This was something she had never felt before. She preferred the thought of the cold sea — but she could not countenance the thought of another girl having to die to replace her. She resolved then that she would let herself be Hrothgar's sacrifice, but not for his sake, nor for his cursed hall. She would sacrifice herself for the sake of the other prospective brides. And until then, she would take Unferth's embraces. She would take his love.

              He led her off the cliff and back to the beach below, to a narrow sea cave with a sandy floor. He took her face in his hands, and she noticed that his fingers were trembling. He bent to kiss her. His lips were warm on hers. He was surprisingly gentle, kissing her softly, moving from her lips to her cheek to her neck, pausing at her ear, taking her earlobe between his lips, making a sigh escape from hers. No one had ever touched her in this way — hardly anyone had ever touched her at all — and it felt good.

              He laid his cloak on the sand and laid her down on top of it. She was surprised and somewhat unnerved when he lifted her skirts and buried his face in her nether reaches, but the feel of his lips and tongue on her made her quickly lose any sense of embarrassment. He knew what he was doing, and though she did not know what she was supposed to do, or how she ought to expect it to feel, she could tell that she did not need to do anything, that she could simply take what he was giving. She allowed herself to sink into the sensations.

              She dug her hands into the cool sand and listened to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. The tickling, trilling feeling that Unferth was creating in her loins reminded her of the feeling she often got, before all this, when she was still free, when she would walk alone in the forest and find herself in some deep, dark place, or some bright, sun-speckled spot, and suddenly feel a rush of overpowering pleasure run up her spine, like some invisible presence had just washed over her or run a long finger down her neck. Her senses became confused, intertwined. The waves filled her head, and though she knew that it was Unferth who was kissing and sucking at her, that those must be Unferth's fingers sliding inside her, it seemed like the sea itself had slid into the cave, was sliding fingers, or tendrils, into her, too.

              She was hot and wet. Unferth felt warm on top of her as he pulled himself up and pressed his shaft against her, probing her opening with its tip. And yet something else, cold, serpentine, seemed to be wrapping itself around her, around her wrists in the sand, around her legs, slithering and reaching. The waves became louder in her ears. Unferth pushed himself into her, taking her maidenhead, breaking through. Even though she was well primed, it hurt — it felt hot, searing, as he sank the full length of his long, hard cock into her virgin pussy. But the cold tendrils, the sea-tentacles, as she imagined them, cooled the pain as they wrapped around her limbs and penetrated her, too. The waves roared in her head. The sea-presence enveloped her, enfolded her and filled her. She felt Unferth's heat, his body against her and his shaft sliding in and out, thrusting deep and deeper, but she could not tell where she ended and the sea-tentacles began. She felt like she was losing consciousness, losing herself in the sound of the pounding surf and the all-encompassing sensation of the sea wrapping around her and twisting itself inside her. She felt herself panting, her body arching. And she thought she heard a voice, not Unferth's, not her own, whispering in her ear.

              "The lost one, the lost one," it whispered, "You are the bride, you are the one..."

              She could barely catch the words, could barely tell whether she was hearing them, because at that moment, like a huge wave breaking on the shore, her body exploded into orgasm. All her senses were swept into a single shattering release, a moment of blissful oblivion.

              They returned to that cave many times in the months that followed, but it was never the same as the first time. The feel of the sand and the sound of the waves reminded her of the sea-presence that had taken her, but the presence itself never returned. Sometimes she felt a little like it was somewhere nearby though, somewhere at the edge of her awareness, waiting.

              And so the summer had passed, and then the fall, and the weather grew cold, and the snow blew in, as the days grew ever darker. The walks on the beach ceased, and Sigrun found herself spending longer hours shut in her cell, counting the days until Grendel would come for her. Unferth's visits did not alleviate the agony of being confined. He gave her precious moments of distraction, but it was not enough. She ached for her freedom. She did not fear what was ahead, because she was too desperate to escape her present condition.

              She stared into the fire and heard the words "the lost one, the lost one" repeating over and over in her head. Yes, she was lost. She would be dead soon. The monster Grendel would probably tear her to pieces. Would he eat her? Probably. She wondered whether it would be very painful, getting torn limb from limb. She wondered why she wasn't in fact out of her mind with terror over the prospect. Surely there were some who would choose even this buried-alive life, any life, over certain, terrible death. But apparently she was not one of them. Maybe if she'd really thought there was any hope for her, she'd have felt differently. She wasn't sure. At least she wasn't out of her mind with terror.

              It was dark now and had been for a while. The sound of the door bolt sliding roused her from her reverie. It was Unferth, but he was not alone. Two other warriors stood behind him. She felt a flash of scorn. Did they think she would struggle? Try to run away? But many of the yearly Wealhtheows probably did, poor maidens desperately afraid of the horror that awaited them. Curse them all, every one of them who served Hrothgar and remained at Heorot, for subjecting those innocents to this. But she would not struggle, she would not run. She stood up and took Unferth's arm. She looked the men in the eyes, and they dropped their gaze, unable to meet hers.

              "Right then, shall we go to the hall?"

              The revelries at Heorot were already underway. Hrothgar sat in the high chair set on the dais at the head of the mead benches. He had probably been drinking since midday. He raised a mead horn to Sigrun as she entered the hall and proceeded to his side.

              "Wealhtheow! My queen! We greet you. Join us in our feast."

              "I thank you, but I have little appetite."

              "Understandable, my dear." This he said in a lower voice, for her alone. His cold, shrewd eyes looked her up and down. "At least you're not weeping. Good girl. Brave." He drained his horn. "Unferth, fetch my queen a drink."

              Unferth left and returned again shortly with a golden mead cup, which he handed to Sigrun with a slight bow. The liquid inside looked thick, almost syrupy, and smelled spicy-sweet. He bent towards her ear.

              "Drink it. It will numb you, make you sleepy. When it comes, it will not be so bad — you will be calm — you won't feel —” he faltered.

              “Really? Have you tested it yourself?” She knew he meant well, but she was immensely irritated by Unferth at the moment. “Besides, I'm already calm. I want nothing to numb me. I will keep my senses about me for whatever is to come.”

              He nodded and set the drink aside. “As you wish.”

              Sigrun looked around the hall. There were very few women. Those who were present looked stony-faced, frightened or indignant. Some stole quick, furtive glances in her direction. Their eyes showed sympathy and shame. Some of the men also looked ashamed, green in the face, unable to meet her gaze. Others leered. All of them drank heavily. The women gradually disappeared from the hall, some casting angry glares at the men as they slipped out. Most of the warriors seemed intent on drinking themselves out of their wits. She thought they ought just to have a sip of her drugged mead, if they wanted so badly to numb themselves to their hateful tradition.

              It was growing late, and Hrothgar rose from his seat. He turned to Sigrun.

              “It is time for me to retire, my dear. You must stay here.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Best of luck to you, my wife. Maybe this will be the year he doesn’t show.”

              Hrothgar left the hall. Those men who had not already passed out bedded down along the walls, leaving an empty passage from the great doors down the length of the mead hall and to the dais where Sigrun still sat. Unferth and a few others remained awake, sitting off to either side of her. To make sure that she did not try to run, she guessed. She sighed. How long now until it came?

              In spite of herself, she dozed off, she did not know for how long. She slipped into strange, confusing dreams. She wandered foreign landscapes and made her way through labyrinthine structures. She seemed to slide through the branches of an enormous tree that was everywhere and everything. She saw stars and ice and fire. She found herself at the edge of a milky pool. She stretched out her fingers to touch the surface, but something else reached out and pulled her in.

              She felt herself caught in the coils of smooth, gliding, serpent-like beasts. They tickled and caressed her, and she thought of the sea presence with its cool, probing tendrils. But these creatures held her suspended, arms and legs outstretched, in what seemed like a sphere of pearly light. She heard voices but could not make out what they were saying. Someone approached her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist, dropping a hand to touch her between her legs. She felt a snap of electricity, a charge running through her at the touch. She felt like her body was enveloped in a humming, vibrating field of energy that made her hair stand on end and her nipples stand erect.

              Her arousal grew intense, so intense that it was like she was throwing off crackling charges of energy, herself. She felt herself expanding beyond the boundaries of her body. The serpents were surging, spinning, pulling her so that she arched into a deep back bend. Her head was inverted, her vision obscured by her swirling hair. With her arms and legs still spread wide, she felt as though her entire expanding being was centered on her tingling, humming sex. She felt a burning need to be filled. It was like a hunger, like her sex was a mouth that needed to be fed.

              She felt hands on her hips. Something pressed against her, teased apart her lips.
Yes
, she wanted to cry out,
Yes! Fill me!
She strained to take it inside her, quivering, frustrated by the coils that held her fast. Her juices were gushing. Her mysterious lover continued to tease her, dipping just inside, rubbing the tip of his shaft against her, never quite pulling away, but refusing to plunge in completely. She groaned in a strange combination of agony and ecstasy. She felt sparks coming off of her body. She thought she might just explode in anticipation. Just when she was quite sure that she would, he finally penetrated her. She thought that she might scream from the pleasure of the release as waves of orgasm rocked through her and pulsed out from her. All of her senses were filled with the orgasm, and then it seemed like everything was consumed in a blaze of bright white light.