A Maiden-Song

Wild and wispy, feathery stands,
softer than eider down,
follow behind each of your steps,
catching gentle breeze,
until tamed by braid, ribbon, or flowery crown.

Radiant, luminous, and full of life,
your alluring eyes draw mine.
Clear as the sky in the early morn
on a frosty winter day,
the pale blue luster of moonstone,
twinkling as if sprinkled with stardust.

Moist like the morning dew,
softer than rose petals,
your delicate lips part.
Your tongue passes over them,
calling mine to quench your thirst.

Beneath a dappled fir-tree canopy,
my fingers trace light and shadow
as they dance across your dress.
A radiant blush colors your face,
a smooth, flawless perfection.

Breaking its bonds, your breath flees,
seductive gasps end in vain,
forcing linen-shielded breasts to rise and fall.
Casting their enchantment, they draw my hand.
A feathery tease reveals the ache within.

My heart quivers in my chest,
pounding like a smith's hammer.
I reach out to you, Elin,
from the depths of my soul,
seeking not to tame your wild spirit,
but to join with it.

I am the one who unlocked your heart,
and I see within your love for me.
Trust your feelings, for they are true!
Let your heart find the peace it desires.
I love you Elin, and know you love me!
Do not be afraid, to say these words to me!

"You are a master of words, Jórunn."

Jórunn softly sighed. "No, Bragi, these words are not mine, they are yours. I merely drew them from you and wrote them down. Your love for Elin is clear for all to see. Go to her and speak these words, speak your words."

"You are a wise and clever woman."

She laughed, "I know. Though at times, I suffer from lack of modesty."

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Chapter 5 - A Kiss of Love

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"How can I pay you for your wonderful work, Jórunn? I have a purse with silver."

"I have everything I need here in the fortress, save one. And that is love. Never in this world can love be bought for money. I know this to be true. I lead a lonely life, Bragi. I am a prisoner here in the fortress and cannot leave it. You saw how protective the guards are of me. The guard of the King's house is there not to keep people out, but rather to keep me, and certain others, in. The king fears some rogue will sweep me off my feet, and carry me off."

Jórunn sighed, then continued. "Perhaps the King is not so different from Elin's father. I am tethered to the King's right arm as if I were his hunting falcon. He brings me out at banquets and feasts to sing and entertain his guests, then puts me away again. I have not known true love for a long time. I wish to feel the same love you have for Elin. Close your eyes, and kiss me, one last time, as you would kiss her."

I paused to consider her words, then understood her plea. I went to Jórunn and kissed her. My mind replayed the words of the Maiden-Song I just read, as I drifted into Elin's arms and into her heart. Elin wore a fragrant bridal crown of flowers as we kissed at our handfast. Our lips and tongues danced together, separating only for a soft sigh and a quick breath. So sweet they were, I could taste the honeyed mead served at our wedding feast. I lingered, in no hurry for either my mind or my lips, to leave my vision of Elin.

Finally, Jórunn broke away. "Enough!"

I thought of the many songs and sagas I have heard, where the hero sets off on a quest for love. The hero must slay dragons, battle trolls, and outwit giants. Then fight against magical enchantments set to bar his path. My quest seemed unworthy, the only price required was to kiss a beautiful and famous skaldic poet.

Jórunn said to me, "Use your tongue to win Elin's heart. Be truthful and never stray from her. If you follow these words, your love for each other will grow ever stronger. Wait here a moment. I have a gift for your wedding." Jórunn went over to the smaller chest and removed a wooden box. Handing it to me, I saw intricately carved Norse designs. Then, opening it, I found a magnificent jeweled dagger.

"The King presented this dagger to me for writing my poem, Sendibítr. The blade is Ulfberht steel from Francia and is so marked. It is stronger, sharper, yet more flexible than any other blade you will find. There are none finer in all of Norway. If Elin is as skilled with a sword as you say, she will know its worth. The jarl's son may appear rich, but he could never afford a blade such as this. But here in this fortress, the dagger has no value to me."

"You are very good at your job writing poetry, Jórunn."

"Today, Bragi, my job is spreading love to others."

"Then know you, that your talent at such, is equally impressive. Thank you once again, Jórunn."

"Do not tarry! Do not be late! Elin awaits you! May your feet carry you to her as swiftly as the wings of a Valkyrie!"

As I reached the door to leave Jórunn's chambers, I looked back. Jórunn quickly spun around to face towards her solitary window, but not before I glimpsed tears rolling down her cheeks.

THE END

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Author's Notes

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How does Elin feel about Bragi? If you wish to know, you can read my companion poem, located in the non-erotic poetry section, entitled, "How Can I Find Peace?".

Will the Maiden-Song win Elin's heart? Alas, that is another story. Likewise, if you wish to discover Jórunn's fate within the king's fortress, leave a comment.

In the non-erotic poetry section, you can read a poem I wrote in the skaldic style entitled, "The Saga of Aislinn and Ragnar." Skaldic poetry makes use of short phrases called kennings to create allusions. See if you can spot the kennings I wrote in my poem, or in the one written below by Jórunn Skáldmær.

Ulfberht blades were considered by some as the lightsabers of medieval Europe. The process of combining steel and carbon was centuries ahead of its time, imparting both strength and flexibility and was not duplicated until the Industrial Revolution.

Jórunn Skáldmær ("poet-maiden") was a Norwegian skald active in the first half of the 10th century. Although widely known, only two stanzas and three half-stanzas remain of one of her works, a skaldic poem named 'Sendibítr', which translates to 'The Biting Message'.

The Biting Message by Jórunn Skáldmær

Red with blood of wretches
were royal prince's weapons.
Hirdmen angered Haraldr.
Houses fell a-flaming.

O Hálfdan, Haraldr heard
of hard deeds, did Fairhair;
dastardly seemed your doings,
and dark, to kingly swordsman.

Highborn king of heroes,
his heart was stirred to action
when magnifiers of murder
dared mark their swords with bloodshed.
What more farflung fame
can be found among us
than bestowed by two bold princes
upon hearing hawk-eyed Gutþormr?

Hard-hearted kings repented.
Sindri's skillful skaldcraft
softened stern dissension.

Strong ode from ring-destroyer
strife stopped for Haraldr.
Good pay from goodly king
Gutþormr got for skaldship.
Pair of lordly princes
poet moved to peacemake.
Spearmen planned for sword-storm;
saved they were from slaughter.

From: Anderson, Sarah M. and Swenson, Karen (eds.), Cold Counsel: Women in Old Norse Literature and Mythology, 2002, Routledge: New York and London, pp. 264-265.

This poem, thought to be the only surviving fragments of a longer work, refers to a conflict between Haraldr (known as Fine/Fairhair) (850-933), the first king of Norway, and his son, Hálfdan (known as the Black). Hirdmen acted as the personal guards of Viking nobility. Gutþormr Sindri was a noted court poet (a skald). Jórunn Skáldmær is notable for being one of the few known women skalds (skáldmær translates as skald/poet maiden).