Bothvar Beorcolsson
I love the way Arni’s nose seems to scrunch as she just wakes up and lets out a yawn while she rubs her eyes. As her eyes open, they land upon me and a smile forms on those cute lush lips. “Have you been watching me sleep?”
“Maybe,” I say with a smile, nuzzling my nose against her neck as she giggles.
She kisses my forehead and lets out another yawn. “I had the strangest dream.”
“Yeah? Tell me about it,” I say as I kiss the nape of her neck.
She bites her lip and runs her hand through my hair. “I was in this… Temple. It was huge. One of the biggest temples I have ever seen. However, they called it a cathedral. And there was this painting… It was on the ceiling that arched to the sky. It showed this man with wings bathed in light descending from above, shedding that light upon the darkness below. The walls of the temple were all white with gold and silver everywhere. Then there was this short, pudgy woman who was really mean and cruel. She kept calling me and these others low-borns. She was just so rude and condescending. I just wanted to punch her in the face!”
I laugh as I try to picture Arni punching some short, fat woman in the face. It’s hard to imagine. Arni would never do that. “Yeah, and then what happened?”
“There was another short skinny man who was so arrogant. They called him… I think it was Admiral? I don’t know if that was his name or some kind of title.” She only shrugs as I roll onto my back and smile. She slides over and rests her head on my chest. “I don’t know what it means. I feel like I’m seeing life through someone else’s eyes.”
“Who knows what dreams mean,” I say as I kiss her head. “Let’s leave the dreams for sleeping. My father and mother continue to pester me about making babies. I grow tired of it.”
Her delicate, soft, hand dances across what she has taken to calling the rock pathway of my lower torso. Her small, perfect teeth bury themselves in her plush bottom lip. “I want to have a lot of children. Many sons and daughters like your father. But maybe a couple more daughters. I don’t know where I’d be without my sister.”
“We can have as many children as you want. You can name almost all of them as long as I can have a son named Thorkel. We might as well name one Hrut as well.”
She smiles and kisses me. “I’d like that. I like it a lot. I should name one of the girls Asfrid then. And Svala. I think my sister wants to name one of her daughters after her favorite goddess, Frida, but I would rather name my children after people I know and love.”
I smile at her. “If that is what you want, then that is what you shall have. And it will make my sister think I did it just for her. Might earn me some silver tips. If only she knew the truth.”
She laughs and softly swats my chest. “You are so bad. I suppose we should probably name two of our boys Thormar and Bodvar, right?”
“Not a chance. I don’t want to risk having children just like them. Ugh… One is a know-it-all and the other knows too little. One is full of anger and the other doesn’t know fear. They’d always be fighting each other. Seriously, not children I want to put up with. At least with Thorkel, we only need to worry about him slipping out to exploring and getting into trouble. Every youngling does that.”
She gives a half smile and raises an eyebrow. “Bothvar? They’ll take it as if they didn’t make you proud or something. Both of them look up to you.”
“Why can’t Thorkel name his kids after them? He deserves children like them for all the trouble he’s gotten us all into.”
Her smile flattens. “Bothvar…”
“Fine, okay. But what if my brother names his kids after them too? Then we’d have two of each of them. Can you imagine that?” My eyes go wide as I truly give the thought weight. “That would not be good, I do not think our village could survive the four of them together.”
She snorts a laugh. “I’ll sort it out with my sister. Let’s just worry about making them.”
I crawl on top of her with a grin. “Oh, don’t worry about that, love. I think I’m going to do well at making babies.”
She giggles before her lips meet mine. Her hands slide up my rocky pathway and across the drizzle of hair on my chest, which she thinks looks like two large stones with a sprinkle of grass on them. Her fingers wander north, twirling my beard before her fingers explore my head of hair. She loves to keep my hair nice and soft with those tonics and oils of hers. She also loves to keep me nice and clean. I don’t mind it either.
Especially when she takes her time to clean my body. She loves to follow the trails of my muscles. I love to return the favor and trace the curves of her soft skin as I bathe her. My hands have explored every curve and valley of her body. It makes her moan in delight. I love the look she gets on her face when I find those soft, sensitive spots that make her gasp. It’s the look of a goddess gracing her love upon me. She is the stars, the moon, and the sun to me. I want to make her feel as if she’s already in the halls of the gods and that this is what the afterlife of the worthy is like. Full of pleasure, love, friendship, and joy.
She grinds her hips against mine as I kiss a trail down her soft skin. Her delicate, beautiful skin. The golden color she had during the summer has faded into a white, milky ivory color. I can’t help but leave a path of kisses all over it. I want my lips to touch every part of her, but I hold back and make my way down her soft tummy and lick the little cave there. That gets her squirming in giggles. My lips find her little pond, but I don’t dive in right away. I bring my lips between her legs as she wiggles her hips, enticing me. I slowly kiss down the soft, silky skin of her inner thighs as she quivers and scoots closer to my face. “Please, Bothvar. I want to feel your tongue against my womanhood.”
“Do you now? How badly?” I grin up at her as I meet her eyes, her teeth nearly cutting into her lip.
She pleads with me with those deep blue eyes. My own eyes go wide as I blink. For a second I swore I felt we were somewhere else… A golden hall, laying in a bed with sheets softer than silk. Her golden hair shining brighter than the sun and her eyes glowing with the light of all the stars in the sky. “Please, Bothvar. I need it so badly.”
I shake my head, pulling my attention back to the present. I look up at Arni’s cute, feminine face with that dainty, little nose.
“That bad, huh?” I ask with a dirty grin. “You know I could never say no to that face.”
I spit on her tight cunt and gently rub it inside her with my fingers as she grinds against them. Then I drag my tongue against her slit and flick the little bead at the top. She writhes in pleasure with a squeal. I let my tongue explore her wet womanhood, going back to the places that make her moan but never staying too long. She sighs in frustration as I tease her. Her hands grip my hair as she grinds her cunt against my face, groaning out.
I finally pull away and spit on my hand as I wet my cock. She bites her lip as she arches her back, pulling her legs against her soft, perky breasts. I slide myself across her tight entrance, coating my cock in her wetness. She doesn’t wait any longer and grabs my dick, pulling me up to her wet, warm sex. It drives me crazy when I see her digging her teeth against that delicate lip of hers. It’s so plush. I sink my cock into her cunt as she lets out the breath she’s been holding in.
Then I lean down and bite that bottom lip. She won’t let me go and kisses me deeply as I make love to her while her legs rest on my shoulders. Her cute nose squinches and it drives me crazy, making me thrust hard into her. She whines as her eyes cross. “Oh god, don’t stop. Fill me with your seed, Bothvi. I want to bear you a son.”
I groan out as I thrust harder into her. She grabs my ass, urging me on. My lips attack hers as I pump my cock into her while reaching down to rub that spot she likes so much that looks like a little bean. She moans out, gasping for breath. “I’m… I’m going to. Oooh… Bothvi.”
She moans out, digging her nails into my skin. Her eyes clench shut. She clenches down on my cock and convulses. I fall over the edge and fill her with my seed as the pleasure drowns me. Sweat covers my skin as I drain every last bit inside her. Gasping for breath, I collapse on her, holding her tightly. She grips my hair and holds onto me in return. “I can feel our son grow inside me. I know it to be true.”
I look at her and can’t hold back my smile. I kiss her with a burning passion.
A sudden loud crash comes from Thormar’s room next door. Arni staples. “What was that?”
“Must be Thormar having another one of his tantrums,” I say with a sigh.
“But he’s always so kind and calm,” Arni says.
I laugh. “My little brother might seem kind and rather calm most of the time, but when he gets pushed over the edge, he blows up. As my great uncle Alvi once described my grandfather, Thormar is very much the same. Swallows down his anger like a mug of mead, but when he swallows too much, it comes up like vomit.”
—
I spent the first part of winter making love to my wife when I’m not sparring, playing the game of war with my brothers or father, or picking up the slack with the slaves. Even though the slaves do most of the hard manual labor, sometimes I find it refreshing to chop some wood myself. Keeps me strong. We also spend a good deal of time fishing on the ice once the rivers, bays, and lakes freeze over. Winter can be harsh and food can be scarce. That’s why we must take every opportunity to get more.
Bodvar and Svala spend most of their time playing pranks on Thormar. Hiding his maps on him, stealing all his favorite trinkets. They went too far when they took the compass father gave him. I’ve never seen Thormar so mad. He had Bodvar pinned to the ground, nearly choking him. It took both Thorkel and me to pull him off and calm him down. Svala and Bodvar reluctantly gave it back.
After that, they turned their attention to the slaves, Morcar, along with several of the elves. No one cares enough to step in. I don’t like Morcar much, but I feel some of the elves don’t deserve it, so I convince Bodvar to reluctantly leave them alone. Especially the elves that serve Sigvor. Fortunately for Bodvar and Svala, they are not stupid enough to incur Aunt Sigvor’s wrath.
One of the elves, Valindra, even thanked me when I stopped them from picking on an older elf named Olaurae. Of course, it was really Arni who convinced me to stop my siblings from picking on the old elf. I tell her to give her thanks to my wife. But to be truthful, I rather like the old elf Olaurae. He taught me all about the little games with dice and cards elves play. They’re rather fun, except when I lose. The damn elf seems to win a lot. I think he cheats, but not enough to make it obvious. It doesn’t bother me that much since he doesn’t cheat me all that much. At least not that I’m aware of. Unless he cheats to let me win. That could be possible. He’s pretty wise for an elf.
One thing that bothers me is how some of these elves stare at my wife. That elf named Valindra, the one named Lethvelion, and that one named Renna are constantly taking glances at her. I swear, if I find Lethvelion looking at her in such a longing way as he does again, I might have to do something about it. Even this Olaurae seems to see something within my wife. I asked Valindra why they all keep looking at her in such a way. She tells me that Arngunn looks a lot like someone they all knew back home.
Both my Arngunn and Asfrid’s bellies swell up with babies around the same time. Thorkel and I, along with our family and most of the town, celebrated once we found out. It was a joyful night of drinking, wrestling, and games.
As Svala and Bodvar arm wrestle to prove who is stronger, we all sit at the table sharing drink and stories.
My father and my great uncle Alvi talk about their travels while Thorkel, Thormar, and I listen closely. Uncle Alvi has so many stories of his journeys exploring the unknown seas, it’s fascinating to listen to. And for once, both Thormar and Thorkel share a common interest. They both seek to explore just like uncle.
Bodvar and Svala seem to be in a stalemate. Finally, Svala kicks Bodvar under the table and slams his arm down against the table, winning the arm wrestle. “No fair, you cheated!”
Svala only shrugs with a grin. “Life isn’t fair, little brother. Get used to it. Besides, cheating is just a shortcut to winning.”
Bodvar looks over at father. “Father, tell Svala she can’t cheat.”
“Bodvar, in war, you do what you must to win. There is no honor in war, just victory and defeat. Although, Svala, if you truly want to test your strength and prove yourself to be stronger, you do Bodvar and yourself no favors by cheating. Never take shortcuts in gaining strength and skill. You practice fairly, but when it comes to battle, you take whatever measures you need to in order to win,” father says, taking a sip of his ale.
Uncle nods. “He is right. In war, there is no cheating in war because if you lose, you lose your life, but in practice, you only cheat yourself by taking shortcuts. To cheat in training your body, you do yourself a great disservice.”
My father nods. “Now, speaking of training, we should get back to it.”
—
My father increased our training and teaching. Especially with me since it’ll be my first time out on the sea this summer. We spent time on the ships, going over how to sail.
“Our ships have become much larger, stronger, and faster than they once were. They’re now three decks. The bottom is for storage and sleeping, the second deck is for the oarsmen thralls, and the third deck is where the raiders maintain the sails and our gunners work the four ballistae,” father says as we tour his ship, which Thorkel will take over this raiding season. “You must know your ship inside and out. You will learn its strengths and weaknesses. You must also learn as much as you can about your enemies and your allies’ strengths and weaknesses. We have plenty of both out at sea. Not to mention the sea itself can be an enemy. Not only can storms sink our ships, but there are monsters out there. Our clan is named after one, and there are many more like the Cirein-croin and the Leviathan. Not to mention the merpeople and the Merrow,” my father says as we stand on the main deck of his ship. “I’ve also heard about this narrow passage with a giant whirlpool in the middle. However, if you try to avoid it by sailing close to the rocks on the only narrow passage, you’ll get attacked by a many-headed serpent. There’s no way to avoid danger.”
“I keep hearing about them. Can they really be that bad?” Thorkel asks.
Father turns on him, his blue eyes drilling into my older brother. “I’ve seen the Kraken and the Merrow myself and have heard enough tales of the others from unimpeachable sources to have a healthy sense of fear. The Merrow lie to the northwest. You must never sail there or they’ll attack you. And I saw the Kraken. If there’s only just one, it’s also to the northwest in the Dead Sea as well. That is why we do not sail there. Now, I’ve heard tales of the Cirein-croin far to the south of the sand lands that the blue-eyed elves live in. Not to mention the merpeople are somewhere in that sea as well. I’m sure there are plenty more. I’ve even heard stories of water dragons. Never toss out a tale just because it sounds absurd, but also take them with a grain of salt. Heed the warnings, and take no unnecessary risks.”
He pauses before continuing. “Now those are just some of the monsters to be aware of. I’m sure there are plenty of others out there we haven’t heard of. You’ll have plenty of enemies that are people as well. The main enemies will be the Southerners and this Golden High Elf Trading Company. We simply call them the Golden Elves. Even though they are mainly merchants who ship goods from port to port, they have a fleet dedicated to hunting down pirates,” my father said. “Speaking of pirates, the seas are full of them. Some of them can be allies. I met an elf with a strange pair of black and red eyes who flew a black flag with a dragon on it. She went by the name of Captain Azariah, and she helped us out in our scuffles with the Golden elves. But not every pirate you can trust. There are some that aren’t so trustworthy. Two pirate captains in particular were rather scoundrels. They’re dwarven brothers who tried to steal a merchant ship from us and nearly sank one of our other ships. Their names are Thornwulf and Skakdraeck.”
“I thought dwarves were friendly blacksmiths,” Thormar says. Thorkel drags his hand down his face. He pushes Thormar’s head.
Father looks at him. “Do you think every Northerner is an honorable Viking?”
Thormar thinks about it for a second. “I suppose not.”
Father gives a half grin. “Then why would you assume every dwarf is a blacksmith with honor, and every elf is a Golden Elf who wants to kill us?”
Thormar lets out a sigh. “I don’t know. I just…”
Father cuts him off. “Just goes to show how backward things can be out at sea. Never make assumptions about individuals based on their race. Assumptions will get you killed. Now that being said, you should always assume the worst. If you see a man wearing a sword on their belt, assume they know how to use it and will use it against you. If you see a man in a cloak hiding most of their figure, assume they’re hiding weapons. Assume that the ship you see is the enemy. However, even though you assume they are the enemy, do not instigate a fight unless you are certain they are the enemy and you can win the fight. Always fight on your terms, and pick battles of your choosing in a place where you have the advantage. Never meet the enemy on their terms. Understood?”
We all nod and say the same thing – “Yes, father.”
A loud crash comes from the dock and out stumbles Svala and Bodvar. Svala punches Bodvar in the arm. “Clumsy oaf!”
“Ouch! Why d’ya do that for?” Bodvar says, rubbing his arm.
“You fell on me!” she snaps at him. Then she looks up at father. “But father, what if you had no choice?”
Father only laughs as he looks down at the two of them. “Svala, don’t let your mother catch you eavesdropping.” he warns. “If you have no choice, you fight. But fight smartly. Find weaknesses you can exploit and opportunities to gain advantages. There’s always going to be plenty of both in every battle. You just need to know where to look.”
“Just like when we had to engage the Elven trading company who attacked us. You purposely made them chase us until we got to the mountains to the north where the fog is in the ship graveyard,” Thorkel says.
Father nods with a grin. “Yes, exactly. And then we ambushed them and rammed their ship into a jagged rock which put a hole in their hull.”
“How come we didn’t raid their ship?” he asks.
“Because they were hunters, and they had wizards on their ship. If it weren’t for our own magical protections on our ships, they’d easily sink us with magic. However, that protection doesn’t work if we were to raid their ship unless you’re wearing one of the amulets. Even then, they can still beat you with magic without using it on you. Wizards and witches are dangerous. That is why we don’t try to engage the Golden Trading Elves,” father explains.
“Why don’t we get our own witches and wizards?” Thormar asks.
“Do you think we can just grow them out of the ground? They aren’t a crop we can harvest. I don’t know about you, but I have no idea how magic even works. Your mother can use magic, and maybe you boys can, but the vast majority of us Northman can’t use magic. Where do you think we could get witches and wizards, huh?” father asks him as he raises an eyebrow.
Thorkel smacks Thormar on the back of the head. “Thormar, maybe you shouldn’t talk anymore.”
Thormar growls and pushes Thorkel back, which was a big mistake. Thorkel hooks his foot around Thormar’s heel as he pushes his chest, making Thormar fall flat on his ass. Thormar yells at Thorkel and shoots for his legs, but Thorkel ends up getting him in a headlock.
“Boys, that’s enough.” Father sighs as Thorkel slowly releases him. Thormar is fuming as he gives Thorkel another shove. Thorkel goes to punch him, and Thormar nearly trips over his feet as he flinches. Thorkel just snickers. “Are you done?”
Thorkel only shrugs as Thormar glares at him. Father only sighs as he rubs his forehead and then focuses his attention on our older brother. “Thorkel, how can you know the answer if you never ask the question? Never prevent your people from asking questions. That is how they learn. The more questions our people ask, the wiser they become. The wiser our people are, the better we all are as a clan. Knowledge is just as sharp as any weapon, as any sword or ax. That is, if you know how to use it. Thormar, ask any question that comes into your head. But, if you ask the question, you have to be prepared for the answer even if you do not like it. After all, the truth is the truth, regardless of whether you like it or even believe it. Now, if we could get witches and wizards, we would surely use them. Your Aunt Ingithora definitely makes a vast difference on Koll’s ship, and she is only one person.”
Thormar turns to our father, “What about mother and Aunt Sigvor? They can both do magic.”
“Then who will watch over our home and lead our people when we are gone? And who will heal the sick? Besides, your mother does not take well to being on a ship. It makes her…” Father trails off, quickly looking around to make sure no one else is listening to us. “It makes her sick, and don’t you dare tell her I said that. As far as Sigvor, she doesn’t like violence. Now, let’s go back inside before any of you get a cold or your mother looks for us.”
Later, Thorkel and I find Thormar pounding nails into a beam back in the keep. “What in the name of the gods are you doing, little brother?”
Thormar sighs. “Can you just leave me alone for once?”
“Now what kind of brother would I bet if I did that?” Thorkel says with a smirk.
“Look, father said that whenever I do something out of anger, I should take some nails and hammer them into this beam. He didn’t tell me why,” Thormar says as he takes another nail and pounds it into the beam. The part below his knee is covered in nails as he works his way up. Thorkel and I just shrug. Thorkel messes up his hair. “Have fun with that little brother.”
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