Ægir's Wife Ch. 10

"I know my words may hurt, son. But someone has to say them. I figure since your father isn't here to do it, that leaves me."

"We have fuck all control over the seas or our lives. The gods, Fate, or merely chance, who the fuck knows."

"I learned that the hard way. It should have been me. That night, I had duty. It was our first night out to sea. I had spent the previous one in your mother's bed. Sleep had not been on the agenda."

Sven scrunched his face. While he realized that his parents had once been young lovers, as active in the BDSM lifestyle as he and his brothers were, no one liked to think of their mother as a sub, a lover, or even a woman.

The old man laughed, "Just remember, one day, those babies will feel the same about you."

They both chuckled at the thought. But still, Sven said nothing. When they quieted, Olaf stared off at the sea, his eyes glazed over with moisture, until a single tear slipped over the corner of his right eye, and traversed a trail down his weather cheek.

"Lars insisted. Insisted that we switch watches. That I needed sleep."

The finality of Olaf's sigh tore at something profound inside of Sven, "I'm sorry, son. You don't know the number of times, the long nights at sea, alone. How often I have wondered, thought about how things might have been different."

"He was just a boy. A fucking man-child. Barely older than she was. And so fucking full of life. So full of joy and laughter."

That tear was joined unashamedly with others. His uncle did not even attempt to wipe them away as he continued. "You remember how Bjorn was at that age? It's funny. You look like your father, and Bjorn is the spitting image of Stig. But in temperament? He is more like Lars, and you more like Stig."

Olaf sighed again and finally swiped the back of his hand across his face, erasing the physical evidence of those tears. Though Sven knew nothing would ever erase this moment from his memory.

"But we don't always get choices, son. Or maybe it is more that we never know until it is too late the outcomes of the choices we do make."

Once more, the pressure grew inside of Sven's chest, threatening to rob him of breath. How many bad decisions had brought him to this moment? How many lost opportunities had he squandered with her? Did he even deserve what little joy he had now? Her love, her touch, those babies, his brothers, his mother, this old man?

"Just remember, we can't change the past. We can't undo those choices. But we have other choices, other decisions, other chances. Maybe life isn't so much about the decisions we made or the shit that Loki throws at us, but what we do with it."

"Of all people, I know how unfair life has been with you. I played a huge part in that, a part that I may never forgive myself for. But life went on. I made new choices, some of them good, and some shit."

"You have choices, too. You may not like them. I know that there have been times I did not like any of the options I had either. But even then, especially then, you have choices. You alone can make the decision where you go from here. What you do next."

His uncle's roughened hand stretched out to the horizon. "She's not an option, Sven. Your time with her is gone. It makes me glad that we fought on your side against Rachel. That we gave you that decade."

"You will always have that. I know. Sometimes in the middle of the night, the wind will blow, and you'll catch that smell, feel Ran's soft caress, and remember those times. Sometimes that will choke you with regret, and others it will fill you with joy. But you will always have those memories."

"The question is now, what comes next? What do you do? Where is your place? You can get lost in all those what-ifs, the pain of roads that are closed to you. Anders did. He lost himself in that, long before he lost himself in the bottom of that bottle."

Olaf inhaled deeply as if to draw strength from the sea air, "Or you can fight. You can make a new place for yourself. A new destiny."

"I don't need to tell you all the things you have to live and fight for. That girl, those babies, your brothers, your mother, this place, even this broken old man, we all love you. We're all fighting for you, son. But you are the only one that can make that choice."

"As much as I wish I could save you the pain, I can't. Not any more than I saved your father. Or Anders. Or your mother. Helveti, I could not even save your brother from his dumb-ass choice in that woman," they both chuckled at the memory. The pain of that choice blurred now by the joy and life that she had brought.

"Like I said, I know this might have hurt you, maybe it was even more about this old man clearing his conscious, trying to right old wrongs. I don't know. I just wanted you know how much we all care."

Sven looked out to sea. The horizon stretched to infinity. The sounds of her waves crashing on the rocky shore. The cool, crisp, salty breeze caressed his skin. Her smell filled his soul. But his uncle was right. This was as close to her as he would ever get again.

And while he might often come to this shore to reconnect or think, he had other paths to walk now. Even if he must wheel them, or hobble them on a stick. He would put one foot in front of the other, just as he had in those long hours of therapy. He would fall. Maybe too often.

But he would not walk it alone. He had her. He had them. And wherever that took him...them, it would be enough.

Sven placed his hand out to help his uncle up. "Thanks, old man." Sometimes words failed. Sometimes they were not enough. Sometimes they were insufficient to say what was in your soul. And sometimes, that did not matter because sometimes you did not need words to say what was in your heart.

***

Georgia watched the little girl run through the meadow. The flowers were thinner now. Dying and disappearing. No longer one or two here or there, but whole patches of them from one day to the next. Fall was almost over. Winter was closing in fast. She knew from listening to the men talk that the seas were getting rougher.

She should have gone home weeks ago. She had promised them only a few weeks to help get Monika settled; until they could bring the other brother home from the hospital. Then she should have gone back to university. But she had waited. Delayed. Avoided it all.

Until finally, two weeks into the autumn term she had been forced to email the university, ask them to put her place on hold until next year. It was that or lose it altogether. That should have been wakeup call enough for her. Made her realize that she had to make some decisions, do something. But still she delayed.

They were happy enough to have her for as long as she wanted to stay. To avoid reality. To escape the past. To hide away from the future. Kirsty was more than busy enough with her husband and the pregnancy.

Georgia's hand rested on her flat abdomen. Pregnancy? It had been one of her greatest fears, a nightmare. The prospect that...

Stop! Her mind screamed. She was not ready to face any of that. Not yet. But she knew that until she did, she would never be prepared to move on from this.

Not that that was a bad thing for her. She had found peace and solace in this place. A safe haven and refuge from the storm that was her young life. And she knew that they would never cast her off, send her back there.

No, if it were just her or if Mikael or Roz had been able to convince her mother to join her here. They had both tried. Each checked in on the woman every couple of weeks. But nothing had changed.

As she had suspected, the first time that Roz had visited, her mother would not even open the door to the woman. But even the tiny bit of Mama's face and hands that Roz could see had shown bruising, bad ones. Her mother had finally overcome her fears enough to let both Roz and Michael into the flat, they both attested that each time there was fresh bruising as well as unhealed old ones.

Still, her mother refused to come with him. Again she said that marriage was for life. Divorce a mortal sin. But she had questioned them about her, reluctantly admitted that she was glad Georgia was away. Had someplace safe to go.

That only intensified her guilt. Her resolve. She had sent almost all of her earnings back home with Mikael. She had written that her mother was to save the money. Hide it, keep it somewhere safe. If she would not come here, then find someplace. Someplace safe to go. But she knew, knew in her heart that her mother had handed it over to him. That he had drunk and gambled it away. Just as he had gambled away her innocence that first time...

Still, despite all that, she knew. Knew that if she was going to save her mother, she had to find the courage to go back there. To face her father...and his friends.

But after weeks and months of safety, the what-ifs overwhelmed her with fear. She knew that her father would be angrier than ever. And she feared that this time nothing would stay his violence or his friend's deviance.

Rape. The word burst through that closed door in her mind. Shattered it. She began to tremble. The ground tilted, and she felt her legs give way underneath her. She curled into a tight ball, her arms hugging her knees to her chin as she rocked back and forth, humming the lullaby that her mother had so often sung to her after...

No, this time, there would be no reason for her father to stop them. She was already sullied in his eyes. Not even her precious virginity would protect her from the ultimate humiliation that he had threatened time and time again. No, this time, he would not pull them back, not demand they stop with merely violating her...

Tears were streaming down her face so quickly that she could not see. Some tiny rational part of her brain worried for her charge. How could she betray these people's kindness by breaking down like this? If anything happened to Monika, she could never forgive herself. She tried to stuff it all back inside. To push that big, hairy, smelly monster back into the closet and shut the door forever.

She tried to force her muscles to get up from that cold, damp ground. To find the child and keep her safe as no one had kept her safe. Certainly not her father. Not even her mother. But her body refused to obey. So, she laid there silently begging, pleading, praying that the earth would open up and swallow her as it did in those ancient myths.

***

That was how they found her. Monika had sensed her friend's frailness. She had easily remembered the way home. Though it was a rather long walk back, she was not afraid. This was her Homdling. She was safe here. She knew the way. When she finally got back there, she even managed to stand on tiptoes and turn the knob that would open the door.

And with all the resolve inside of her, she had found the courage to look up at her mother and grandmother as they sat at the kitchen table. She had willed herself not to look away — not this time.

And she forced those words from her brain out of her mouth, "Georgia. Come. Quick."

Each one was a chore. Like the tasks of Hercules, her grandmother read to her at bedtime. Like Sysiphus pushing the boulder up a hill, knowing that it would only roll back down again. And she knew it would. Knew that tomorrow, she would not be able to meet their gaze or put two words together.

But now. At this minute. She had no choice. Her friend needed her.

Kirsty beamed as she made to swope her into her arms, but she was too big a girl for that now. Besides, they did not have time for one of her mother's hugs.

"Georgia," she demanded, and she took Kirsty's hand in one and her grandmother's in the other, "Come. Now."

She dragged them from the Homdling around the side of the house and back the way they had come. The only thought in her young mind was helping her friend.

***

"Promise me that you'll bring her mother back this time?" Kirsty pleaded with the image of Mikael on the tablet that sat beside her on the lavatory as she put the final touches on her light make-up.

Movement on the screen caught her eye, and she turned her head as Mikael began to speak, "I'm sorry, lilla gumman, that is not something in my power to promise."

"Yes, but if you saw her. If you heard what that man did to her, allowed his friends to do, she can't go back there. But she won't agree to stay here unless she knows her mother is safe. We have to do something. I mean, you could always kidnap her the way you did me?" Kirsty was not sure if she was kidding or not.

She was badly shaken from this afternoon's experience. She and Petrine had spent hours with the girl, holding her while she cried. Georgia never actually told them the full story, but they caught enough bits of it while she drifted into and out of sleep or delirium to know that it was worse even than Kirsty had imagined the day that she had arrived, severely beaten, at their flat to say good-bye.

The very idea that a father could allow his friends to molest his daughter, his only child, to pay off gambling debts? It boggled her mind. Kirsty and Petrine were no more enamored of her mother. It was one thing for a woman to stay in an abusive marriage, but as far as they could tell the woman had done nothing to protect her child either? Her hand covered her overly distended abdomen. She could not even begin to fathom it.

"Oh, elskling, such a tender heart. We never stood a chance with you. Bjorn was right; you are everything we needed. The one," he smiled.

Kirsty knew that she was not going to like the next words that came from his mouth by the heavy sigh and deep frown that furrowed his forehead. "But we cannot just kidnap the woman. Bridestealing is one thing. It is a millennium-old tradition, not just with our family, but across much of Europe. Maybe an old and antiquated one, but look how well it turned out for all of us."

"I hope so," Kirsty fidgeted with the ribbon on the front of her sheer black lace nightie.

"Feeling a bit insecure? About tonight? Don't worry. I promise you; it will all be fine. But we will come back to that."

She wished desperately that he was here now to hold her and reassure her that everything indeed would be alright. With Georgia. But equally with them, especially

with Sven.

"I am not sure that I would even want the woman at the Homdling," he smiled at the new name his daughter had christened their home. All of them had adopted it. It seemed appropriate somehow that this new era, their new family, be blessed with a new moniker.

Kirsty nodded her head, "Yeah, I can't understand. I mean, as submissive as I am, I would never allow any of you to harm the girls. I'd kill you myself." She giggled, "Or at least take Humdig to your back until it dripped blood."

Mikael threw back his head. His warm laughter soothed her like oil upon water. "I'm not sure we should have allowed you to be Big Brother's physical therapist. It seems to have brought out a Domme in you."

Kirsty blushed at the verbalization of her fears. But she did not have time to ponder them further before Mikael continued.

"Yes, none of us can understand. And Odin knows, I have spent more time with the woman than any of you." He shook his head; his longish light brown waves danced about his dark countenance like some ancient war rite.

"The woman has some truly warped sense of the roles of women and marriage. She refuses to see that if her husband breaks the vows by abusing her and their child, then she has the right, no, the obligation to protect them. She is so worried about some eternal damnation that she has made a living hell out of her life."

"As you say, that is bad enough, but if you had seen them that day. If you had heard the way the woman tried to guilt Georgia into staying in that abusive environment," he closed his eyes. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose.

When he looked back up, Kirsty could see that he had forced a smile for her benefit, "I will try again to get the woman to leave. To go somewhere safe. I promise. But I do not think it is best for anyone if we bring her there."

"If, more likely, when she gives in and contacts the bastard, it will only bring trouble and danger to all of us. And we will not have the girls, you, our mother, or our way of life endangered. Not even for Georgia." He sighed heavily again, "Besides I am not sure that it is good even for her. Perhaps a clean break..."

His voice trailed off, and silence filled the space between. It was as wide and deep as the hundreds of miles of open seas around them.

"You have my word that I will do my best, elskling." He smiled; this one was genuine. "Now, show me. Step back, and let me see you fully."

Kirsty blushed, this outfit was more revealing than actually being naked. Bjorn had selected, ordered it online, to replace the corsets that her pregnancy had relegated to the back of a drawer.

It was sheer black chiffon lace that fell just to the top of her thighs. The bottom, deep V-neckline, and armholes were trimmed in bright red fake feathers that tickled and distracted her. It was gathered and full just beneath her tits that threatened to spill from its top. It both hid and accentuated her fecundity. If that was not bad enough, there were slits in the top, also covered in those red feathers, which revealed her engorged nipples.

She blushed as she obeyed her husband, stepping back and slowly turning in front of the tablet.

"Fuck, baby brother has as good taste in lingerie as he does in women. And when you put the two together, damn, I'll need to masturbate at least twice tonight. You are absolute perfection, sweetheart. And I don't have to tell you what your pregnant belly in that outfit does to me."

"Don't tell me, show me," Kirsty was not certain where the idea or the touch of command in her voice came from. But once the words had left her mouth, she felt them to the soles of her feet and the depths of her soul.

This was what she needed. The outcome of this night, her time with Sven, was uncertain. She was still upset and worried about Georgia. She needed this man. This husband specifically. He was her rock. He had been for so long. And if she could not be held in his arms, reassured with those tender kisses to the top of her head, then this would have to do.

It was something they had never done — any of them. Oh, sure, she had often performed on camera for him, or Bjorn. But never had either of them. Though she knew that they likely relieved their tensions later, she had never presumed such boldness. Maybe Mikael was right; had something new been released in her?

"Please," Mikael interrupted her musings.

She shook her head, "Please? Please, what?"

He chuckled, "My good little girl needs to ask nicely if she wants to see my hard cock."

As always, his naughty words bypassed her brain and shot straight to her clitoris. It was not just men who could think with their little heads, it seemed. "Please. Please, Sir, show me your nice hard cock," she purred as she lifted her always ample, now almost indecently large tits. She leaned over so that he had a better view of them.

"Oh, yes, that's right, lilla gumman. Squeeze those nipples. I can see how hard they are already." Her screen went grey for a moment. But just when she feared that she had lost the connection, his throbbing cock filled the screen.

Kirsty had always appreciated their cocks. Each different sizes, tastes, and textures. But up close like this, magnified in the screen, Mikael's was a thing of pure beauty, a masterpiece, a living work of art as it pulsed and jerked before her eyes.

She could see the bead of pre-cum that glistened at the slit. She wanted so desperately to lean forward and lick it from the head. To swallow the head as she ran her hands up and down the hard length of him.