Ægir’s Bride Ch. 03

"Here's a piece of information for you, sweetheart. Doms are human too. That means we are going to fucking make mistakes. And all that shit about...safe, sane and consensual...that only works if you are playing. Not that it isn't a good thing in clubs or casual situations, but it simply does not apply in a real relationship. Because sorry, sweetie, but I keep forgetting to drag out that big old Dom bible we all are issue when I take you to bed."

He got closer still, invaded her space, used his superior size to intimidate her, to remind her of just who she was...something she had forgotten long ago. "Right now, I am in no position to judge our sons for how they handle their wife, considering how mine behaved."

He turned her head so that their eyes met head on, "Tell me woman, do you really think that you helped our daughter to adjust to her fate, to our way of life, by lecturing her husband on how to be a good Dom in front of her?"

He released her jaw then, stepped back just a fraction and watched her massage her the flesh. After a moment, she looked up at him, that fire still blazed there. Not that he did not love this woman's fires. He did, they all had. But there were limits. There must always be limits...and she had crossed them.

"Someone has to..." she began.

"What? Protect her? That is not your place, Rachel. You might have forgotten, old woman, but you are a sub too." He shook his head as he stepped forward once more, "No one is denying that you are a strong woman. And brilliant one even. That's why I love you so fucking much. Too fucking much maybe."

"But this has to stop. Now. We have all let this go on way to fucking long, sweetheart. After Bjorn was born..." his voice trailed off. Even after all this time, he saw that pain in her beautiful face as fresh as that day almost thirty years ago.

This time though he steeled himself. He needed to do what was best for her...not what she wanted. That was the mistake they had all made for so fucking long. And it had to stop...now. Before she hurt others...anymore perhaps than she already had. And that meant that it was time for some truth between them. The hard truth.

"We were all so fucking afraid we would lose you. You just kept drifting further and further away from us. From the children too. So we let you have your way. Forced Mikael to remain with you and Bjorn when he wanted to join us at sea as much as Sven had. But we convinced the poor kid that his mother needed him here more. We put a weight on that little boy's shoulders that should have never been his to bare."

He choked back pain...pain that was old, bitter and sour, like the taste of vomit the next morning after getting shit faced drunk and throwing up who knows where. Hell, that was what he wanted just then, but he would not allow himself. He never had taken the easy that Andreas had, trying to forget it all in the bottom of a bottle. But now he was the only one left, the one who had to pay for all their mistakes.

He shook his head, "Maybe we were even right. Maybe letting you keep Mikael and especially Bjorn as long as we did helped to heal those wounds. You came to terms with it. We all tried to. But there was a price to pay. There always is."

He sighed heavily, "The problem is, Rachel, we let this shit go on way too long. We let you get away with murder. We let you forget who you really are. What you are. You, my beautiful, amazingly strong, intelligent wife are still first and foremost my sub."

"Control, boundaries, rules are not just there because we Doms need our fucking egos stroked. They are there because you need them. Subs need them to feel safe, secure and loved. And we all forgot that...all of us."

"But we cannot afford to anymore. That girl does not need you to protect her. That is her husbands' jobs. She needs you to mentor her, to model good behavior her, to help her find her place here. And this morning you did anything but that. You undermined not just Mikael's authority with hers...but all of them. You sowed even more seeds of unrest among our sons."

He stood face to face with her, "You disappoint me, Rachel."

He watched as those green eyes clouded over with tears, he saw the muscles of her throat work reflexively, trying to swallow back the emotion. And for the first time in a long time, he felt hope. That maybe it was not too late. That maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back...back to what they were, who they were always meant to be.

"So my beautiful Alpha, we need to set some new rules, new boundaries. First of all, you will apologize to Kirsty and to our sons at dinner tonight. You will admit that you were out of line. No justifying, no hemming and hawing. You were wrong. Subs do not tell Doms how to do things. Period."

He watched her face as she considered his words, when she finally nodded slowly he felt that hope jump in his old chest once more. After forty fucking years, how did this woman still do that? But now was not the time to soften on her, he reached out and landed a solid barehanded slap on her butt. "You really have forgotten what you are, old woman. Never again nod or shake your head at me. The proper answer is 'Yes, Sir.' Maybe once in a rare while, 'No, Sir'."

Her eyes really flared wide then, "What? You are the one who threw our dirty laundry out there. Made our sons face something they have been trying for most of their damned lives to ignore. So if you have no problem with them knowing the truth, then you can damned well live it in front of them from now on. And the proper response is?"

She inhaled deeply and dropped her eyes from his gaze, "Yes, Sir," she whispered.

Maybe he should have been satisfied with that small progress but he was not. He lifted her chin and forced her to look him in the eye, "Did you say something, woman?"

That fire challenged him once more. He realized then that he was quite looking forward to re-training his beloved wife as his sub. Maybe it was wrong, but he also was quite pleased that this time...it would be to his standard. No sharing. No compromise. His wife...his submissive. And the little darling was in for more than one surprise along the way.

"Yes, Sir," she replied after a long pause. Louder this time.

But not fast enough, as a second even harder blow found that jean clad bottom. "Number two...you will never again call them 'boys.' They are men and they are Doms. They have not been your boys in many, many years." He chuckled, "Hell, I am not sure if Sven ever was."

"Nonetheless, every time you call them 'boys' you will be punished. Ten the first time. Then twenty..."

"I know the drill. Then thirty. Forty and so on. I am not that old and senile, old man," she challenged.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled it. Hard. Until her head fell back and those eyes flared open. He leaned in and bit down hard on her neck, right over her pulse. He held it for a long moment as she squirmed. Not until she stilled at last did he release her.

"I have never found 'brats' attractive, especially not sixty-three year old ones. Maybe that is my fault...mine and my brothers. But hear me now...it ends this morning. And sorry, Rachel, you have mistaken me for my soft ass brothers. I prefer exponential punishment...ten, twenty, forty, eighty, one-hundred and sixty, three-hundred and twenty... Do I need to keep going?"

He relished the way that those eyes flared in fear. Had he ever seen that look? Not since that first night on the ship when she had tried to take Andreas's head off with the hook and nearly put out Lars's eye in the process.

"Now, you start to understand me, old woman. And don' think my arms are too old or weak to do it either. I spent fifty years at sea hauling nets and I still spend most days working with them in the shop. Don't think you can try me. I promise you these old arms can last a lot longer than that cute little butt of yours."

"Oh and yes, we need to get back out there and relieve Bjorn. He and Sven need to finish what they were doing on the boat. But then again too, I seem to remember that with you delaying your punishment only makes it worse...gives you time to think about it more."

He leaned in again, "But tonight...after dinner, after you apologize to all of us, this sweet ass is mine, old woman. To make my rules clear. You will politely excuse yourself. You will come back here and shower. You will then kneel, oh yes, I said kneel woman. On the floor...not the rug. And you will stay there until I join you. Then we will discuss what your punishment will be. Based on how serious this offence is...and it is. And on your behavior, your contrition, for the rest of this day. Is that understood, Rachel?"

She started to nod her head, but caught herself. "Yes, Sir." When it came out throaty and low, she tried again, "Yes, Sir."

"You are not getting a 'good girl.' You have a far ways to go to earn that one. Now get your cute ass moving," he said as he slapped it again.

***

Kirsty stretched and rubbed her nose. Something was tickling it. She smiled as she remembered what. The man was full of surprises...and her fetish for hairy chests...'well, one in three ain't bad, right?' she chuckled.

"Awake are we, sleepy head?" She looked up into eyes that were more silver than forebodding grey at that moment.

"Was I asleep very long?" her fingers could not help but enjoy the bounty of her discovery. And she was more than pleased that her little itchy shirt ploy had worked. So maybe he was not completely naked. Maybe they had not 'consummated' anything. But it was a baby step in that direction. A little brick out of that wall he had built around himself.

"A couple of hours. We need to get down to dinner soon. How are you feeling?"

She stretched, making certain to rub her naked body against as much of his bare skin as she could. She frowned for a moment then smiled up at him, "I would say good, but not sure that covers it."

He landed another of those barehanded slaps on her butt. "Quit flirting."

She batted her eyes, "Whatever are you talking about?"

"Cock tease," he chuckled.

She was never sure where it came from. Shy was her normal mode of operation. But something...some thing...made her reach out and place her hand directly over the fly of his jeans. She smiled broadly to discover that this man was not as unmoved by her as he seemed.

But her joy was short lived as he picked her hand up and brought it to rest on his shoulder. In that position with his covering it, she could not even play with his chest. "And no pouting either, woman." He sighed, "We need to talk."

She nodded and looked up at him. He wanted to talk...let him begin. But when he did it was not what she expected.

"Is my daughter autistic?"

The question itself did not surprise her. She had known they would get to this...eventually. It was his timing that surprised her. Why now? Like this? Naked in his arms...after? Well, just after.

But she had also prepared her answer and she stuck to it, "I am not a pediatrician or psychologist. I am not qualified to make a diagnosis."

"I did not ask for one. I don't even want one. Growing up in this family, the last thing Monika needs is another label to make her different. What I want is your honest opinion?"

She sighed, she had had only a small taste of what it must be like 'growing up in this family' as he called it. And that still stung. But he had asked a valid question and he deserved the truth.

"As long as we are clear on that...then, yes. Yes, I believe that Monika fits somewhere on the autistic spectrum," she was surprised when she felt his chest move beneath her hand. The heavy exhale was as if a weight had been lifted from him.

"I think I knew. At least from the moment we began to read about your job, what you do. The more I read the more I saw Monika," he was staring steadfastly at the ceiling as he spoke.

She did not push, did not say anything. But neither did she make any attempt to move away out of his arms. She had been part of the team, who gave parents this news more than once. And while she was truthful that she was not qualified to make the actual diagnosis, she also did not tell him that she had served as one of the team, the panel that did.

But this felt so fucking different. The child might not be hers...but in some weird way she felt the connection to the little girl as much as she did her father. Felt as if she belonged here...with them. But maybe she was just being foolish. There were so many questions still left. So many things unsettled between her and Mikael. Especially between them.

It was several moments that they lay like that...she was uncertain what more to say or do. She knew the routine...give them time, don't push, and let them come to terms with it. But this was not 'they,' this was him...her husband.

Or she liked to hope one day she could come to feel as close to him as she did to Bjorn...as drawn to him as Sven. But wasn't she already? Okay, maybe in some dark way she was not quite ready to handle...but...she fought back a giggle. She had spent way too much time with children when a Disney song popped into her head at a moment like this.

He must have felt her move though because he looked down at her then. She wanted to reach up and brush back the moisture that glistened in his grey eyes. But she knew that would not be appreciated. He would not want to hear how it was all right, how she had seen even the strongest of men weep, throw chairs across the room, curse their gods, blame their wives and as many different responses as there were people over the years. All she wanted was to make it better somehow.

"Can you help?" his voice was impossibly deep but it held the thread of hope that she sought to draw this man closer.

"That depends on what you are asking, Mikael," she dared not brush the tears that she doubted he even realized were on his cheek away. But she did battle his hold on her hand enough to lace her fingers through his, to offer a comforting squeeze.

"I cannot cure her. Autism is a life-long condition. A different way of experiencing the world in which we live," how trite that part of the speech she had heard hundreds of times sounded now...with him...in this moment. But then again she had never laid naked in anyone's arms when she gave it before.

"But can I offer treatments, options, therapies that can help you and her...and all of us to bridge the gap between our worlds...if that is what you are asking, then the answer is yes," she looked up at him, met that gaze, "If you will let me, if you trust me with your child, if I have your permission."

He chuckled and softly returned the squeeze of her fingers before bringing her hand to his lips, "If I did not...if we did not...you would not be here right now," he said.

She kicked his shin, "Thanks for the reminder about the Russian girl."

His eyes danced, "Which of my dumb ass brothers mentioned that you had competition?" He laughed again, "Dumb fuck...baby brother of course. That boy don't know when to shut up."

"Yes, well, sorry if you are disappointed," she pouted.

"What makes you think I am disappointed?" he said as he slapped her bottom once more.

Then his face darkened and the serious one was back, "Truce? Can you and I call it a truce? I promise you I won't lose control like I did last night. Never again, you have my word on that."

She knew that should make her happy. So why the hell did she feel like she had just lost ground with this man? And why the fuck did it make her want to push his buttons? To see just how far she could go until he broke?

But she simply nodded, "Truce, it is then."