Hey guys! I woke up this morning, had myself some rice porridge, turned on my coffee machine, did some snow shoveling, had myself a cup of coffee, and decided to write a chapter. Might as well continue in the Viking mood, right? :) Oh... Smut is coming.
Enjoy my 50th chapter of Frida! How did I ever reach this many chapters? You guys, probably. Hugs!
"Look! Look, Hvitserk! You see it?" The whistling sound of Ubbe's whispers sneaked their way into Frida's ears as the small group walked close down a wet and soggy path of their destination, the moor of Heddinge.
Frida narrowed her eyes down at what Ubbe was pointing at, but she saw nothing but the reed grass that flourished heavily around the edges of the many bog pools that covered the area as she took careful steps forward, constantly feeling her husband's hands on the small of her back. She could sense his tension easily through the thick and wet air of the moor, as they moved slowly forward, how his eyes repeatedly hovered from her to Ubbe and Hvitserk, who were further up the path.
Even though Frida had told him to just follow his sons and let her walk on her own, he had insisted on staying behind her, a small snort and a glare of narrowed eyes was his only answer to her proposals.
She sensed how his hand moved over her back along with her every step, quickly calculating how to advance if an accident were to happen, and she could not help but to feel warmth coating her heart as she took in the beauty of the landscape in front of her.
The moor was indeed very mysterious. The enormous amounts of pools of bog water divided the moor into narrow paths that were crooked and strange, tall and strong birch trees towering up from the waving earth that was covered by lush evergreen moss. The sticky warmth of the moor caused clouds of mist to roll from the stills of the bog water and over the ground like a mystic spell, thick in the air like the steam over boiling water.
The sounds of the place were even more strange and unfamiliar to Frida. You would have expected to hear frogs or crickets in a swampy place like this, but it was so very quiet compared to any forest she had ever walked through, small dripping noises repeatedly clinging from the watery grooves, the sound of a chirping bird only heard once in a while.
There was another sound too, a sound that Frida could not recognize, even as she strained her ears as she made her way over the miry moss beneath her. It was like a gentle swishing sound, a whistling of some sort constant in her ears, as if the nature around them were soughing.
As if it breathed.
A small splashing noise had the whole group startled, every one of their faces turned sharply to the moving water at their left, where expanding rings of water was the only sign left of the creature that had surfaced the water.
"I bet it was one of the elves, Hvitserk," Ubbe whispered with a smug expression over his face, causing his little brother to look over his shoulder.
"Stop scaring your brother, Ubbe," Ragnar growled from behind Frida, before puffing at her, ordering her to keep moving.
Frida sent a last glance back to the stirring water, and when she turned her eyes back in front of her, she saw Floki watching it too. She sent him a small smile, and he moved the corner of his mouth a little upwards at her, probably doing his best to return the notion before too turning around to move further ahead of the path.
As had been told in the song from before, fish were of plenty in places like these, so Frida shook her head a little as to shake off the weird feeling that was gnawing at the back of her skull, causing her to look over her shoulder just like Hvitserk had.
The small group of people continued on like this for a while, before they found a high-ground with solid earth, where they were to rest. They had brought some flatbreads and sausages, accompanied by ale of course, that they were to enjoy in the beautiful surroundings.
And it did feel wonderful, to sit there between the greenery of what was known to be the kingdom of elves and have lunch, small conversations scattered among the group of people that were resting beneath the shadowing crown of a tall birch tree.
Floki had already given up making a fire, as all of the twigs nearby were too wet for the flames to lick.
Not that a fire was necessary, to say the least. The late summer was hot.
Frida could feel how a fine cover of sweat ran over her skin. Which was probably why Floki had just given up and let himself fall to the cool earth under his feet, spreading both arms and legs as to let some air cool his skin.
Frida quickly noticed how small mosquitoes danced over the still waters around them, and how the earth suddenly crawled with life around them, small insects and bugs peeping out from the grass under her. She rose to her feet in a swift movement, and made a little jump on her feet.
Not that she was not used to insects in her everyday life, just not this amount of them being this close to her.
"Where are you going, love?" Ragnar voiced from over by the tree trunk of the massive tree the whole group was resting under.
His eyes were almost closed, as he sat there, and she sent him a little assuring smile as she took some steps away from the tree. "Just looking around a little, I won't be far," she smiled as she turned her eyes to the beautiful nature in front of her.
It was like a fairy tale walking among these woods, and Frida had a tingling sensation creeping over her skin as soon as she turned around a little curve in the path in front of her. A beautiful path ran like a river in front of her, enclosed by the striped white trunks of birch trees, and she smiled to herself as she continued down its crunchy path.
She could still hear the high pitched voices of Ubbe and Hvitserk chatting, so she knew she had not gone far.
The path she walked on soon opened up in front of her, and she found herself suddenly gazing into a small sunlit meadow, in which wild red flowers grew low over the ground, small yellow milk tubs* appearing here and there in between.
When she sensed movement ahead of her, she felt her heart beat fastening, and she turned her eyes quickly, only to find herself staring into the brown eyes of a young fallow deer. Its head was peeping out from the lush thicket edging to the thicker forest behind the meadow, and it seemed to be looking directly at Frida, its eyes curiously roaming over her figure.
Frida froze in her stance, her eyes not leaving the deer, and she felt the breaths of the moor around her leaving a small stripe of moist over her upper lip as she stood there. The sight of the deer in front of her, glaring at her, had her breathing calm breaths, exhaling gently into the warm summer air.
The fur that ran along its throat was white, but over its lengthy back ran a thick coating of brown, spotted with small beads of white, but this deer had no antlers growing from its scalp. It was a female, she could tell not only from this, but also from the smoothness of its face and its eyes, curious but alert, reminding Frida of the innocence of her own childhood memories.
She suddenly saw the image of her mother flashing by for her eyes, like a ghost of the past, but not frightening her in any way, but reviving something dead inside of her that felt warm as it started pumping along with the blood in her veins.
Frida closed her eyes for a small second, and smiled to herself as she shook her head lightly.
How peculiar that it was in a place like this, a moor this peculiar and unique in its every breath was to remind her of her mother's soul. But then again, the air that circulated here, the atmosphere that the tall trees and the low still waters created in the mist of the landscape somehow made her feel like she had when she was a child, being around her mother. She just could not remember why.
A sudden sound behind her had Frida swirl around in a quick movement, raising one of her arms in front of her while protecting her stomach with the other.
She lowered her arm when she realized that it was Ragnar who had caused a twig to snap behind her, coming into the meadow with a curious smile on his lips.
Frida exhaled in a chuckle over how strange this place had her acting, and she smiled at her husband who was approaching her slowly, still this curious smug curl over his lips. She had already forgotten everything about the deer.
"I followed an elvish girl here," he soothed from his lips that barely opened as he spoke them, his raspy bass traveling gently into Frida's ears and down into her stomach, calming her with its warmth.
The air still had her skin tingling as she raised her eyebrow at him, tilting her head slightly. "What did she want from you?" Frida played, as he came closer to her, his arms innocently tucked behind his back.
"Hm," Ragnar smiled crookedly, and squinted his eye at her as he closed the distance between them, towering over her, his eyes piercing down into hers, swallowing her in their light as she stood there. "She wanted to seduce me, have her way with me," he rasped over her face, his lips curling ever so smugly.
Frida raised her eyebrows. "And you followed her?"
Ragnar puffed out a small cloud of air from his lips, wetting them, before he spoke: "Yes, I think she is here right now, singing for me."
Frida let her eyes wander over the shrubbery that surrounded them in the meadow. She could hear nothing more than the breathing soughs of the moor, the humming of a bee flying lazily by in the warm rays of the sun nearby also prevalent in the sunlit circle.
Frida smiled curtly. "Hear, young fair lad, will you not stay? I will teach you things of new that only the depths of your heart knew you have long desired," she soothed melodically, stretching her neck as to let her voice travel better into his ear.
She could feel the his heat beaming of him, sending small bolts of lightning to shot over her skin along with the tingling of the forest air, and she felt herself trembling a little, when Ragnar breathed into her ear. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and Frida felt herself give into him, leaning her entire body into his arms.
She hugged her arms around him, and turned her face to his, his lips already crashing upon hers, causing her breath to get stuck in her throat.
His lips felt hot on hers, and she sighed out into their kiss as she felt him cup her face with his rough hands, the heat beaming of him like a fire.
"Your magic is too strong, I… I'm afraid…" Ragnar smiled in between small kisses, but Frida hugged him tighter, forcing her tongue to enter his mouth, his words dying with the spread of his taste over her tongue.
She felt his hands shooting down her body, hugging her entire figure before they traveled to her bottom, groping around them entirely with his big hands and cravingly clenching them as he gently let his teeth bite the tip of Frida's tongue, causing her to whimper out into his mouth in surprise. But Ragnar did not stop taking what he wanted.
He planted long wet kisses on her lips that were already throbbing from their rough exchange, and he let his hands sway over to grab at her breasts that were growing big with her stomach, and he squeezed them gently, though, and Frida sighed as she gave into his taking.
His touches felt good over her skin, and she sighed into his mouth when he reached one of his hands under the fabric of her dress, cupping her breast greedily, grabbing at one of her buttocks with the other.
Frida felt herself blushing heavily as they stood there in the meadow, and she suddenly grew conscious of where they were. "Ragnar," she soothed in something between a whisper and a moan, "We're not alone in these woods."
She felt his mouth leave the skin of her neck as he let his face turn to the sky above them. "No, I know," he breathed before he pulled her down to the soft green ground under them, placing her there gently.
It was not that she was not conscious of what they were doing. It was just that she could not stop it.
She was somehow feeling a little bit dazed by the thick air of the moor, and the tingling sensation over her skin had Ragnar's every touch send small vibrations over her body like hot lightning bolts. So she could not help but to whimper helplessly when Ragnar's fingers suddenly pressed over the fabric between her legs, a little explosion of heat and moist shooting warmth up her entire body.
She could feel his eyes over her entre figure, but she had closed her eyes shut as she took the feeling in of him exploring her body. "I am the luckiest man alive to have such a beautiful woman lying here in front of me," Ragnar breathed silently as if it was not even meant for her to hear, "carrying my son so beautifully with her every day in her belly."
Frida smiled as she felt him positioning his ear to her belly, as if he was listening to the child inside her. His hands travelled to cup her breasts once more, and his eyes were suddenly piercing hers right from above as his mouth returned to hers, his lips a little gentler now as his hands travelled back down to the fabrics of her dress.
He slowly pulled at it, leaving the skin of her legs bared to the summer air, a light cooling sensation causing her to sigh out into their kiss. Ragnar groaned above her as he worked the fabrics of his trousers, and Frida felt her cheeks burning as his mouth worked the sensitive skin over her shoulder. She soon felt something warm and silky slide over her burning heat between her legs, and she whimpered helplessly as she lay there, not being able to do anything else but to give the Northman above her what he wanted.
"Just," Ragnar rasped impatiently as his hardness pressed at her entrance, "just…"
He entered her hard, in a quick wet movement, thrusting himself hard into her and grasping his hand around her hip, pulling her to him, crashing their bodies together.
His hardness pushed into her wildly, unsuspectedly, and she whimpered out behind closed lips as she felt him hit a spot inside her that caused warm waves of pleasure to ride over her body.
"Huh," Ragnar growled as he slid out only to thrust himself into her again with the same force, carving into her with another wave of pleasure. She pressed her eyes shut as she wanted to scream out into the calm airs of the meadow, but she controlled herself, barely, biting her lower lip hard.
His hand was still clenched hard around her hip, and he continuously pulled her down over him as he thrust into her in a slow but steady rhythm.
They were silent but rough as their bodies worked together over the forest floor, and Frida soon felt Ragnar digging his fingers into her hip as a growl rippled from his chest behind her, and she knew he was close to letting go.
She let her fingers dig into the earth under them, and she pushed herself unto him violently, surprising him only for a moment. Ragnar let his teeth scrape over the skin of her neck as he thrust himself inside her to her rhythm, her skin hitting his with a wet sound between the shrubberies of the moor.
"You are…" Ragnar breathed in a raspy groan before his throat seem to shut as he thrust himself into her one last time, roughly, his entire body trembling behind her as he came undone inside her.
She heard him panting exhaustively behind her for a short moment before his hardness slid out of her, causing warm liquids to travel down her thigh.
Frida breathed quickly as she sat up on the grass, letting her eyes travel to Ragnar who was already pulling up his pants. "What am I?" she asked in a breathy and calm voice.
"You are perfect."
*Milk tubs, or dandelions. I chose the word milk tub because the Danish word for it is "mælkebøtte" (milk-bin/tub). Fun fact and all.
What do you guys think? Let me know! :)