Good Morning, Smár Einn!
Thank you to Mel, Jill, and Paige!
.: Fimm Tigir ok Þrír :.
"Smár Einn." Edvard's voice is soft, followed by the feeling of his beard brushing against my bare shoulder. My eyes flutter open, immediately meeting his verdant gaze. It takes me a minute to catch my breath, and in that time, Edvard smiles, pressing a soft kiss to my skin.
"What was that?" I gasp, my voice rasping.
Edvard looks a little smug. "That was your pleasure," he whispers. "Your first pleasure."
My heart is still thundering in my chest and echoing in my ears.
"Is it always like that?"
I feel like I've lost track of my own body. I feel weightless, distracted by whatever has just overcome me. Edvard smiles wider, pressing another kiss to my shoulder. It sends gooseflesh over my body.
"It can be."
My hand is shaking as I lift it to press against his cheek. "Is it that way for you?"
Edvard kisses my palm. "It's different, but some parts are the same."
My fingers flex, scratching lightly against his beard. "I want to see."
Edvard's eyes darken, and he leans forward, his lips meeting mine. He tastes different—rich and tangy. I realize with a start that it's me I'm tasting on his lips.
We break apart, and I stare up at him, surprised but aroused again. I realize that his tunic is gone, leaving him in trousers and nothing else. My eyes wander down the strong muscles of his chest and arms. A memory flashes through my mind of our journey here, watching his body flex as he rowed.
I can't help turning onto my side and reaching out to touch him. His skin is warm and taut over his well-developed muscles. My fingertips trace the line of his biceps, and I watch in fascination as his muscles contract reactively.
My fingers pause over a long thin scar, and I look up, my eyes meeting his.
"An accident," he says lightly. I reach forward, pressing a soft kiss to the silver-white skin. I feel him take a deep breath, and I pull back a little to keep looking him over. My fingers wander toward his chest, brushing through the light sprinkling of hair there. There is a large scar where his neck and shoulder meet, and I frown as my eyes settle on it. My fingers reach up, brushing over the slightly puckered flesh.
"What happened?" My voice is barely audible, fear gripping my heart as I eye the scar. How close he must have been to death.
"During a raid," Edvard says softly. "I was fortunate to have my father there with me that summer. He knows healing from my mother and saved my life."
The fear reverberates through me, and I pull my body closer to his, pressing my lips to the scar. My eyes squeeze shut, and I have to fight back tears.
Edvard's arms come around me, pulling me to his chest, and I love the feeling of his naked flesh against my own.
"It frightens me to think of you so close to death," I admit.
Edvard presses a kiss to my hair. "Our fates are decided before we are even born," he says softly.
I pull back to look at him. "What?"
He nods, kissing my forehead. "Do you recall the tale of the fates?"
I frown as I think about it. "A little," I say slowly. "Will you tell me again?"
Edvard kisses the shell of my ear as he begins to speak. "There are three Norns who live at the foot of the great Yggdrasil," he starts. I nod, recalling the name of the giant ash tree Edvard's people believe to be the universe. "The Norns care for Yggdrasil, heal it of its ailments with magic. There are good Norns and wicked Norns, but the three who guard the world-tree are called Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld." Edvard's fingers trace up my spine, and my nipples start to pebble against his chest.
"Other Norns visit each of us upon our birth and set upon us our fate." I can feel his fingers tangle into the loose parts of my hair between the braids. "Some have been blessed by good Norns; others are visited by wicked Norns. That is why we bless children before they are born, to invite the good Norns." My mind flashes to the birth of tiny little Halvard. I remember Eydís praying and blessing the space as well as Tove.
"So your death is decided before you are born?" I ask, my chest feeling tight with my fear.
"Yes, Smár Einn. We do not fear death for we know if it is our time it is because it has been set long ago."
I'm quiet as I try to process that. "If it's okay, I'm still going to be afraid of you dying," I whisper, my fingers tugging gently on his beard. I watch his lips quirk upward.
"Yes, Smár Einn."
My fingers shift back to the scar at his neck. Something about it scares me in a way I've never been frightened before. I can't shake the feeling of terror it brings me.
Edvard leans forward, pressing another kiss to my forehead, and my eyes squeeze shut. Right now, Edvard is safe and warm and waiting for me to make the next move. I take a breath then open my eyes and let my hands wander down his chest.
"You're so strong," I murmur, and I'm not sure what language I'm speaking in until he responds.
"I live a strong life," he answers.
I glance up at him. "You're strong here, too," I tell him, reaching up to tap his chest. He smiles and my hands drop back down to his abs. I could spend days lost in every line of his toned body.
My fingers pause their descent somewhere around his navel, and I look up at him, suddenly nervous again. He smiles encouragingly, one of his large hands coming down to cover mine.
Together, we slowly tug the ties of his trousers loose. My hands are trembling, and I know it's a combination of both excitement and nervousness.
We stop when his trousers are undone, and I look up, my eyes meeting his again.
I love this man more than I can understand, and there is nothing I want more than to be with him.
We work together to push his trousers down, our eyes staying connected as he sheds his last garment between us.
I hesitate, staying locked in his gaze a moment longer before I let my eyes drop down his body. I've never seen a naked man, and the breath rushes out of my body as I gaze at him. Surely they cannot all be so… massive?
I look up at him, unable to mask my panic.
"What is it, Smár Einn?"
"That will never fit in me." The words are squeaky as my cheeks flood with color.
Edvard's shoulders relax, and he lets out a gentle laugh. "It will," he assures me. "I have made your body ready." He reaches down to the wet slick between my thighs and I moan, my hips jutting toward his hand automatically. "Do you feel this, my Smár Einn?" he asks, his voice husky in my ear as his head dips toward mine. "This is a sign from your body. This is your desire."
My legs shift open as his fingers continue to stroke me. His fingers dip inside me again, and I moan louder, my hips jerking toward his skilled hand. Edvard leans down, kissing me hard, and I'm lost to the pleasure he is masterfully building in me again.
I'm so lost in sensation, I don't realize it when he rolls over me, nestling between the cradle of my thighs. I can feel him, hot and heavy, against my thigh, and my muscles bunch in anxious anticipation. But then his hands are stroking me, and his tongue is sweeping my own, and I'm lost again.
Edvard removes his hand from me, and before I can complain, he is shifting his hips until something much larger is pressed against me. I break our kiss, my body tensing in preparation.
"Relax," Edvard breathes against my skin. "Your body knows what to do." He kisses me again, his hips staying still, and I settle under him, the tension slowly leaving me.
Edvard's hips shift slightly, and I can feel him slide through the wetness pooling between my legs. It feels unbelievably good, and my hips jut up to his, seeking more. He moves once more through the wetness before his hips change their angle and he's pressing into me.
He moves slowly, giving me time to stretch and acclimate to the foregin weight inside me. It is uncomfortable, and that discomfort stings more as he sinks deeper into me. I shut my eyes, trying to breathe through the unfamiliar pain.
"Still," Edvard whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips again. I reach up, my fingers weaving through his hair. "Let your body get to know mine."
The discomfort fades relatively quickly, and soon, my hips are moving again, pulling him deeper into me. He lets out a short breath against my cheek as he sinks further into me. It is a strange, foreign sensation and yet nothing has ever felt more right, more natural.
After a few moments have passed, Edvard sinks into me completely, and I gasp, the feeling of being full overwhelming me. "Are you well?" he asks, his voice tense with his restraint.
"Yes," I moan. "Edvard, I need more."
He grunts, leaning down to kiss me as he shifts his hips away from me, nearly sliding out. Before I can complain, he's sliding back into me and I let out a cry against his mouth. "Again," I pant, my fingers clutching his shoulders so hard I'm sure I'll leave bruises. Edvard obliges, setting a smooth, long pace that seems to be ratcheting my body toward a plateau of pleasure I did not know existed.
My knees bend, my heels digging into the furs under us as I try to find more leverage, urging him to move faster. Edvard groans, his pace quickening, driving the breath from my lungs.
I understand now, the cosmic significance of this act. I feel it in me, building universes with each stroke. This is the closest to the divine that humans can reach.
Edvard's pace quickens even more, and I can't catch my breath as he pounds into me, driving life into every corner of my soul.
I feel him unravel above me, feel the heat of his release in me, sparking hope and life and love.
Home. I am finally home.