The wind blew fiercely like a giant's icy breath. Under her feet, shifting snows swayed and scattered with the harsh, blistering gale. The valkyrie plod hastily through the empty dirt roads of her village in order to avoid as much as she could of the storm's wintry wrath.
After a short trip, she came upon the wooden walls and steps of her abode, and thus she entered through the creaking door. The wind's pull forced the door shut with a sudden racket that caused the dishes and the lanterns to shake and rattle. The valkyrie kicked the hard snow from her boots and lowered down the thick furry hood from her head of pale hair. It was then that she donned a look of puzzlement, as someone was sitting still in her bed; a young woman it was, wearing clothes not common to these northern lands. Her face was concealed by a metal faceplate, and her torso hidden under tight robes, tattered by age.
The valkyrie advanced a cautious step while observing the peculiar woman on her bed. "Who are you?" she said, keeping a hand on the sheathed knife on her back.
"Call me Achea," the woman replied.
"What are you doing in my home?"
The woman known as Achea crossed her arms and sat ridged-like. "I was captured by your people, but the dungeon under your jarl's hall was already full."
"And so they put you under my charge?"
Achea nodded.
The valkyrie peered at the curious woman for a moment, unsure of quite what to do with her. She then shed her heavy bear-fur cloak and went over to the dark hearth which held now only smoldering embers. She placed fluffed bark and dry linen over the warm coals and struck bright sparks over the tinder with rock and metal. A small blaze was then birthed, and she nourished the flame with sticks and then logs. Soon the once-dark hearth was now alive with dancing flames and swirling smoke. The valkyrie remained by the hearth in her crouched position and turned her head to the foreign woman. "How do I know that you really are a prisoner and that you're not here to kill me when I least expect it?"
"Because I would have killed you already," replied Achea.
The valkyrie nodded acceptance. "And how long have you been in my house?"
"Since midday. You weren't here so the man who left me here told me to sit tight."
"I apologize for my absence; I was out in the mountains since the last full moon."
Achea said nothing.
Then, as if arousing from nowhere, the valkyrie implored Achea, "would you care for something to drink?"
With Achea's face hidden behind the slotted faceplate, her expression was unknowable. She sat in silence while the valkyrie kept her eyes on her.
"There is fresh milk yet from this morning. You may have some too if you wish."
"This is a trick," Achea spouted.
"And why would I try to trick you, Achea?" the valkyrie pushed back.
"I am your prisoner. Is there any other reason?"
The valkyrie stood and went to the other side of her home. "There is no reason at all that I should trick you." Achea remained silent as the hospitable valkyrie opened a jug and poured pale milk into two deep wooden mugs. She then brought one over to Achea and drank from her own as she sat beside the fire on a fur-laden chair. "Drink," the valkyrie urged. "I am sure you are thirsty."
"Why do you treat your prisoner with such hospitality?" questioned Achea, a creeping suspicion rising in her voice..
"You are not my prisoner. To the others, you are a prisoner, but to me you are a guest. I have long since grown weary of the ways of war: so bloody and so cruel to those who have done little to you. You have done nothing to me, Achea, so I wish to make your stay a welcome one."
"What if your husband sees that you've treated me so kindly?"
"Husband? Of that I have none," the valkyrie said with dismission. "Men are brutes; many have tried to take my hand in marriage."
"You have not accepted any?" asked Achea.
The valkyrie shook her head while still staring into the dancing hearth. "I care not for the comfort of any man, at least not in this village. Tell me, Achea, do you hold anyone dear to your heart?"
"I do not."
"Why is that so? You are a beautiful young woman with many skills and much to offer."
Achea sat in silence for a moment but then spoke. "I fear love," she said. "Love is… a contract that binds two mortal beings to a lifelong commitment. I am in no position to make any such commitment, for I fight battles and reap lives. Had my mother and my father led me on to learn the skills of a housemaid or even farmer, I would take a husband with open arms, but when war is one's profession, one can never be so sure if they will ever return home; I could never bind myself willingly to a man while knowing very well that I may leave him a widower." Achea remained sitting rigidly while gazing into the dancing flame. "And what of you, northwoman? Why do you refuse the advances of many a suitable man?"
"I do not take joy in the comforts of a man. I will not deign to feel the warmth of a man when I know that it will be for naught." At this, the valkyrie donned a placid expression, and both she and Achea drank in silence for a bit longer until there was nothing left in either of their cups. It was then when the valkyrie spoke again. "Why do you wear your helmet? Is that you don't trust me?"
"I know not whether or not I trust you. I am your prisoner, after all," Achea said, "and so I desire to conceal myself."
"I have quenched your thirst and provided warmth unto you while Ymir's children blow their icy breath down from the mountains. Will you not relinquish only a bit of your trust to me, dear guest in my home? Lift your helmet from your face, for the guest who arrives at the feast and remains shrouded is one with which you must be wary."
A hint of hesitation presided over Achea for only a moment before she undid a clasp and eased the metal faceplate from her head. Her hood was lowered, and a beautiful sight was thus provided unto the valkyrie; her fair skin and dark hair contrasted like that of the white hair of the belly of a deer to its darker coat, her nose, slightly upturned in nature, descended down from her wide and prominent brow, and small, faint freckles painted blemishes across her cheeks.
"No skald or poet of any land could define your beauty and have the ink of their pen match the reality in front of them," professed the valkyrie. "I believe not even Frigg could match your beauty even if Idunn granted her the taste of a thousand of her apples."
The valkyrie stood from her fur-laden chair, causing Achea to rise as well.
"Why do you try to flatter me with such works of your tongue, oh warrior?" Achea prodded.
"It is not my wish to flatter you but to put into words what I see before me," replied she.
With questioning eyes and an inquisitive glance, Achea looked on the valkyrie. "You say such great things about me, yet I do not even know your name, northwoman."
"Ragnhildr Bjarkesdóttir is the name by which I am called."
Achea closed the distance between them only slightly. "Ragnhildr," she articulated, letting the letters roll from her tongue as if it were poetry. "I do like that name; it suits well for one who can create such wonderful words to have such a beautiful name. Tell me, oh Ragnhildr, has your tongue professed any word of masterful deceit to me."
"My tongue speaks true," said Ragnhildr. "It speaks as true to you as the Allfather's ravens speak true to his ear."
"Then tell me, oh Ragnhildr, what other beauty can your tongue discover?" At that moment, a flash of sudden lust for the white-haired warrior aroused itself within Achea, and in that moment, she pressed her lips gently against Ragnhildr's.
Ragnhildr found pleasure in the soft feeling of Achea's lips upon hers, and thus pressed deeper into the kiss. As they kissed, Ragnhildr eased her hand up the curve of Achea's hip and then along the side of her torso, her thumb only brushing against Achea's breast. Ragnhildr then caressed Achea's freckled cheek with a lover's tenderness; in this, she pushed back a bundle of stray chestnut hair.
Achea pulled gently away from their kiss, and when peering longingly into Ragnhildr's silver eyes she said, "Do you desire me, northwoman?"
A smirk then crept across Ragnhildr's lips. "Don't ask such silly questions, Achea." She then hoisted Achea up onto her waist and kissed Achea while gently laying her on the bed. Ragnhildr positioned herself over Achea and rested her hand just below the belt of Achea's garments. Slowly, she reached over the buckle and unfastened the belt. When the belt had released its grip over Achea's abdomen, Ragnhildr eased the buttons from their loops of thread: one… by one… by one… until all that was needed to expose Achea's bare chest was a quick legerdemain. Ragnhildr did then gently push away the tough fabric, revealing the pale skin of Achea's torso and her soft breasts; her pale breasts could be compared to cushions of undisturbed silk of the most silky feel and the most wonderful color. Ragnhildr placed her hand softly over one of her breasts, letting the tips of her fingers brush lightly over her nipple that was of a contrasting umber color.
Ragnhildr pushed more of the fabric away and met Achea's lips again with her own whilst Achea slipped her arms out of her robe.
"I wish to pleasure you, Achea," Ragnhildr whispered with warm breath over the supple skin of Achea's neck. "As the raven marks the dawn of the day, I will make you call out louder than he. The wrath of the frothing waves aroused by Jӧrmungandr's rippling body will fail to match the quivering of your legs." As Ragnhildr breathed into Achea's ear, Achea's back arched and fell; her sweet eyes shut themselves, as to relish in the beautiful pleasure, and her teeth nibbled softly on her own lip. It was then when Ragnhildr, as carefully as the panther stalks its prey, ease her hand down the soft flesh of Achea's belly. Each crease and curvature was felt by her smooth hand, and when she found the hem of Achea's undergarments, she slipped her fingers underneath. She glided her movement through the warm bush and lingered her fingers just before the fold between the thighs.
Ragnhildr, full of lust desire, gazed into Achea's amber eyes and kissed her softly. Her lingering fingers then eased over the damp folds of flesh between Achea's smooth thighs; she nudged the tips of her fingers onto the wet flesh. With a soft rub of the fingers, Achea gasped and clutched Ragnhildr's sturdy frame. Ragnhildr massaged the bulge between the supple folds, and Achae moaned deeply. It was a beautiful sound that stirred up emotion and uncovered hidden feeling. New-born passion was churned up inside of Ragnhildr and the sounding of Achea's impassioned yearning. It was then that Ragnhildr made a motion of her hand to where the folds of Achea's womanhood widened and waited eagerly.
A groan, though far unlike that of an old door or an ageless wind, but similar to that of a riling of egregious desire, arose between Achea's soft lips much as the cerulean breeze off the endless waters.
Her fingers glided faster, pressing deeper into Achea's soft folds until a single finger eased itself inside of Achea. Calm motion it was in its seedling moments, and in that calm motion Achea reveled; her back arched and fell like the rising and ebbing of the cool waves, her lips curled out into a round shape, and the fine muscles under the slim fat in her legs tensed.
In and out did Ragnhildr go. Her finger went as deep as it could possibly go; within the smooth bounds of Achea, Raghnildr felt and massaged. It was then that Ragnhildr trailed her other hand down the supple skin of Achea's abodomen where she eased her palm carefully over her pleasant partition of flesh. Her hand then cupped the underside of Achea's thigh, lifting it high. Twas the tongue then, like the lascivious hand of Lofn; it did draw along the wet womanhood of Achea, her taste being sweet and succulent. A fire doth burn bright with passion and desire; that desire and that equal passion being insatiable to the likes of the northern Ragnhildr. How peculiar their attraction: one woman of the south and one of the north. The two are as contrary as the sides of a coin, yet here in this moment of love and pleasure they are brought together through a bind stronger than that which holds the great wolf Fenrir fast to his place.
In that tight bond, no love could escape, for when the pleasures of one woman are brought to the other, legs quiver and lungs tighten. When Ragnhildr cupped Achea's soft vagina in her mouth and massaged it with her soft lips, a great rush coursed through Achea; her legs wrapped around the silvery head of Ragnhildr. She pulled her lover deeper into her, all the while moaning and groaning with such visceral delight.
Love spread between them, and then as the liquids dripped from Ragnhildr's lips, she lifted her head and trailed her tongue up the toned body of Achea, planting her lips softly on Achea's own. It was then that Achea drew her hands up and unclasped the bindings of Ragnhildr's shirt and the belt of her pants. Her shirt fell open and revealed her pale breasts before Achea, who then suckled and massaged them, causing sparking honey to bloom within Ragnhildr. With a free hand, Achea did run her nails over the defined abdomen of Ragnhildr. Ragnhildr was quick to grip Achea's waist and drew her closer to her own body.
Achea's hand moved softly down and through the white hair above Ragnhildr's vagina. She raked her fingers through Ragnhildr's soft hair and then stroked gently the fleshy bud between the folds of her vagina.
Ragnhildr exhaled a hot breath upon Achea's supple neck and bit her ear. Her rumbling groans urged on Achea, and she then rubbed quicker and with more deliberation. Ragnhildr clenched Achea's frame and breathed warm gasps of air into her ear.
Further Achea stoked her; in circular motions her fingers moved until Ragnhildr whimpered and gasped with nothing in between. She kept up her rubbing, and Ragnhildr found that she could barely contain her pleasure. The sheer mountain of erotic sensation that coursed through Ragnhildr only grew further as Achea slid two wet fingers into the hole between her folds.
"Achea," Ragnhildr moaned. "You're going to make me… St-sto-" Her words remained unfinished as her teeth gritted together and the pleasure made her mind a melded mess.
Achea drew her fingers in and out of Ragnhildr with passionate haste and intensity. It was then after only a few moments of this that Ragnhildr let out a fantastic groan and convulsed mightily. Huge, corded muscles within her legs contracted fiercely, and her coarse arms seized up. In a magnificent experience of pleasure, Ragnhildr's legs began to quiver, and warm liquid spilled out of her vagina, covering Achea's hand and making a vast wet spot on the bedding.
She remained on all fours over Achea, panting. The insides of her thighs and the backs of her calves were soaked with her own fluids. She bit her lip. "I tried to tell you to stop," Ragnhildr said.
Achea grinned back at her partner and brought her down to lay beside her. "I could not do that, oh Ragnhildr. You are too irresistible." With that, Achea kissed Ragnhildr gently.
"You are not my prisoner," said Ragnhildr as she brushed a bundle of hazel hair from Achea's freckled cheeks. "However, perhaps next time you can be."