Daughters of Sol Ch. 01

"Astrid! Astrid!" I heard, rudely interrupting my afternoon read. I glanced up to see my super-annoying younger brother standing in the back doorway calling out to me. He was too far away to see the expression on his face, but I was too engrossed in my research to care what he wanted. "Astrid come here," he called out insistently, "come ooooonnnn!" The whining tone made it clear he was just being lazy and didn't want to have to leave the house. I deepened my resolve to ignore him and continued reading.

Whatever it was could wait. I was finally getting into a critical piece of the puzzle, everything would become much more clear after this. I heard more yelling, but continued to ignore it. It came closer and closer, and it was getting harder to tune him out. I needed to focus here, and what the heck was so important anyway?

"AHHH!" I yelled, as the world spun wildly; the books and papers went flying out of my hands... As the ground approached my face, I realized my stupid brother had swung the hammock around to tip me over.

"Dangit, Astrid, I was calling for you!" he scolded, obviously out of breath from his attack on my peaceful existence. "Mom needed—"

His words were cut off as I sprang up and tackled him, pushing my shoulder into his abdomen. I grabbed around his midsection and swung him backwards into the ground, near to where I was just moments before. I pinned him down easily… almost too easy. He offered no resistance. This immediately set off alarms in my head. I'm a much better fighter than my brother, his raw strength had greatly surpassed my own in the past year or so; it had been quite awhile since I had been able to pin him down like this.

"What's the matter, can't you see I'm busy?" I harshly said into his face. But something was wrong… his face was pale and mouth agape. "As, you're needed inside. Mom… there's something… inside." The words slowly stuttered out.

"What?" I stammered, the realization of the situation taking hold. "Uh, ok…" I tried to think what it could be, but just kept drawing a blank. Money? Work? Family? I just don't know.

"Um, sis?" My brother asked softly. I brought my mind back to reality, assessing the situation. My stance had softened, so I was basically just casually laying on top of my brother, lips pursed and staring off into the grass. His left hand was also trapped in my armpit, unintentionally grasping my right breast. He twitched his fingers ever so slightly. Was he copping a feel or just trying to move? I lingered longer than I should have; probably no more than a second or two, but it seemed like forever.

"Gods!" I mumbled as I pushed up off of him to stand up. He "helped" a bit by pushing with his hand; it wasn't comfortable for sure, but somehow wasn't entirely unpleasant. Shaking it off, I went over to carefully gather my stuff and go inside. I'm glad none of it was damaged—some of the books were very old.

I stepped into the house, finding my mother sitting at the kitchen table in tears with my Dad's strong arms wrapped around her. When she saw me, she got up and ran over to hug me; after she wrapped her arms around me, she whispered in my ear. "Jarl Eric has died." She said it so softly, almost sweetly; but the words were bitter to me. This was her father, my grandfather—a man in whom I held in such high esteem.

To us he was usually just "Eric"; to those in the village was a wise and caring elder; to those with ill intent for the village, he was a fearsome adversary. He owned a lot of land in Norway, and I guess at some point he had some "royal" blood; but the Jarls of old ruled by strength, not entitlement. I had so much respect for him, I didn't think it possible for him to die.

In World War II, the whole village was bombed out due to an apparent miscalculation in a night bombing run; there was a military base several miles away, so they mistook the village for a camouflaged military base. Being so remote, they had no warning or even expectation of an attack; all but a few dozen people had died. He was young at the time, but was kept from the war as the last surviving male of his family. After the bombing, he was the only surviving member of the family—just 17 at the time. Most people in the village felt much connection to the Old Ways and wanted to stay and tough it out; those that didn't just up and left. Almost every building was damaged or destroyed, but his family's barn on the edge of the village was relatively intact; so he opened it up for everyone who needed shelter.

While they stayed there, he went around the village doing what he could: organizing food and resources, clearing rubble, and repairing things they needed to survive with. Everyone pooled their resources and each provided what services they could. They were too remote to get any government assistance, so they did what they had to do to survive on their own.

The winter was brutal; they burned wood from destroyed structures and hunted in the neighboring forest to survive. The very old and very young died from the harsh conditions, and by the end of it he was the only man left alive over the age of 18; there were also 5 women and 12 children of various ages.

The women would recount old stories to entertain the kids; they weren't well versed in the old language or culture, just on some of the general ideas. So I suppose it spun into more of a fantasy rather than a history. One of the kids started calling him "Jarl Eric", and others referred to the barn as the "Longhouse". It was quite a "diversion" as he put it, so everyone just went along with it. Many of the details he would never disclose to me, but I understand that he basically became the patriarch-leader of the survivors; they re-formed their society in the spirit to the Old Ways, but in many ways it was almost a completely new system.

My mother was one of the kids from the village, and she held dearly to the new traditions. So we were raised believing in a pantheon of Gods akin to (but not exactly like) the old Norse pantheon, training in physical combat, farming, building, etc… My grandfather had visited several times growing up, and we kept up with video chats over the years; but he rarely talked about the village in great detail. He would always say "Oh it's just a bunch of buildings and stuff, nothing you need to worry about yet". So mostly I just learned all of this stuff second-hand from mom. I loved a good mystery, so I spent a lot of time poring over books and records that Mom had brought with her.

Dad was apparently a businessman who met her while travelling in Norway. As long as I've been old enough to know, I started thinking it was odd that an international businessman met up with a woman in some rural village in the middle of nowhere and decided they were lifelong partners. I never did figure out the details, but for some reason he went along with the whole culture thing and Mom just up and left with him.

"Astrid, hmm?" Mom's soft voice brought me back from my daydreaming. I tend to do that a lot, I suppose; mental escape is part of my natural self-defense mechanism.

"Sorry, mom", I said. "I was just remembering…and thinking." I looked into her eyes: crystal blue eyes, looking generally worn and sad, but something else behind them.

Her voice became firm and resolved. "Your father and I have decided that it's time for us to go back. There are things to do, preparations to make, ceremonies to—"

"Go back?" I interjected. "Like, to visit?"

Mom was about to speak when Dad chipped in: "Yes, hon, a visit. Family stuff, you know." Mom turned and gave him a questioning look. "But unfortunately there is some critical business I have going on right now, and I can't join you right away. For now, you'll go with your mother, Hagen, and Runa." I wasn't surprised that Dad wasn't going; he always seemed aloof of the old village's affairs, but he never once disrespected or scorned it. Probably out of respect for Mom, I guess.

My mother smiled and said "Go get packed. Make sure to bring the books with you; not only will you want to read them on the plane, some of them are needed in the Magihus."

"The what?" I asked?

"Sorry, that's the name of the village's uh… library. It's just a name, don't worry about it. We'll need to leave early in the morning, so get packed and well rested." She grinned.

"Ok, I guess." I let out a sigh and went to the bedroom to pack.

When I got there, I ran into Runa; she was packing already, herself. When she saw me, she looked up and ran over to give me a hug. "Oh Astrid!" We hugged for a bit and each let our tears and fears melt into each other.

"Astrid, I'm kind of afraid… I mean we always talked with Grandfather and I felt connected to him, but I don't know anything about the village, really. Like, we won't know anything about anyone or whatever's going on." I patted her back to comfort her; despite my own similar fears, it was my duty as the eldest to be strong for my sister.

"Shhhhh, Runa… it'll be ok. They're as much a part of our family as Grandfather was, and we by extension are a part of them." I held her head in my hands and said while looking into her eyes, "We are strong, and we must continue to be; it is our duty." I closed my eyes and we touched foreheads. Something… odd came over me. Words formed in my mind; they were comforting, yet foreign and discomforting all at once. I felt compelled to speak them.

We are the Shieldmaidens of Lys. When the night is dark, may our lamps guide the hearts of men.

This was actually freaking me out. I had more to say, but I couldn't go on. I looked into Runa's eyes with my mouth hanging open, and then she spoke the rest of the words that were flooding into my mind.

When the air is cold, may our fires warm the hearths of our kin.

We stared at each other, not knowing what to say. I could see in her eyes that she was as taken aback as I was. Then, another voice joined us.

As the breath of our fathers pass, we will breathe anew. Through us daughters of Sol, the world be filled with light.

We turned to see the source of these words, and beheld our mother. Runa and I both started to talk at once, to ask her what this was all about. She put her finger to her lips and I felt a lump in my throat, unable to speak or utter any sound. "I see it has begun. You will know of these things soon, but put it out of your mind for now; sleep approaches."

My sister and I just nodded in unison, and we all continued to pack our bags silently. Hagen walked in, followed by Dad, and joined in the suitcase-packing. Runa had finished first, and so prepared to shower and go to bed. Since we share a communal bedroom, we'd normally take a change of clothes to the shower and change there to preserve our modesty. But this time she looked distracted, confused almost; she mindlessly stripped off her clothes as if she was the only one in the room and headed for the shower. I saw Hagen trying not to stare, but he was less than subtle as he continued to pretend packing. It's not like this kind of thing hasn't ever happened before; normally I'd scold him for it, but today my mind wandered elsewhere. I let my eyes fall to the bulge in his pants, watching it grow and twitch. I let my mind wander a bit as I wonder what it looked like…

What is wrong with you? I said to myself as I shook my head to snap out of it. Our family has shared this room since even I could remember, and things like this have never been an issue. But I guess things are different now that we're older. Hagen is 21, just a year younger than me and practically a man. He's been rather cloistered here, what with the home schooling and all; so he hasn't seen many women except me, Runa and mom. Snapping out of my daydream I see that Runa's done and Hagen's back from the shower with a towel around his waist. I felt a surge of heat once I set my eyes on the sight of his muscled arms and toned abs. Realizing quickly that I'm next in line I rush over to the shower.

Runa was just over 18 years old, but she was already a full-figured woman. I'll admit, I sometimes get jealous of her beauty. I love her long red hair, it contrasts beautifully with her green eyes. I think I'm rather plain, myself; just kind of whitish-blonde hair and blue eyes kinda like my mom.

"Ah good, they left some hot water!" I said to nobody in particular as I got into the stream of water. As hot as I was already, I felt even hotter right there, like I was going to pass out or something. I lathered up and started spreading the soap all over. It felt really good, just moving my hands all over. I let them linger longer than I should have in certain spots, but by Lys it just felt so good! My hands passed over my nipples and I felt a twinge of excitement go all the way down to my crotch. I touched them again, a bit more purposefully now… twisting, pulling, rubbing… I felt such pressure building up and I just felt like I needed a release. I knew I didn't have much time left before suspicions arose, so I got plunged my fingers deep inside my aching pussy. I found it a little bit of a struggle to keep from making too much sound as my breathing got heavier. My pussy was so wet, and my fingers moved so effortlessly as they went in and out of me.

I opened my eyes briefly to find Hagen standing there at the sink, watching me in the reflection through the open part in the curtain. My mind froze, but my fingers kept moving of their own accord. With one hand I was kneading my breast, and the other was working on my pussy. I saw he had no pants on, and his cock was out at full staff. He was stroking it back and forth with as much wild abandon as I was fingering myself. I synchronized my hand movements with his and imagined his cock buried deep inside of me. He stabilized his hand on the counter and proceeded to fuck it like a pussy. I closed my eyes and imagined it was my pussy. Each stroke was another pump into my waiting hole. Gods, this is so wrong but I couldn't shake the burning passion inside of me. I saw his face get redder, and a pained look came upon his face. He stopped abruptly as his cock erupted white fluid into the sink. Just then, my own orgasm came upon me. I don't even know how, but I felt each rope of semen as if the sink and my vagina were the same. When I regained my composure, he was gone.

I worked quickly to turn off the shower and dry off. All the while my mind was reeling from what just transpired. Was that real? I asked myself. On the one hand, it didn't seem feasible; we all had strong respect for each other, and knew our boundaries within the house. Could it have been just my imagination? Something…else?

I forgot that I had rushed to the shower so quickly I didn't have time to grab any bedclothes. The room was dark. I turned off the light, closed my eyes, exhaled deeply, and then walked out. Everyone else was already in bed. Runa right next to the bathroom door, Hagen opposite her, and my parents' bed furthest away. I went around Runa's bed to mine, moving slowly to avoid making noise. I thought I saw a hint of movement from Hagen's bed, but I couldn't be sure. I stopped at the foot of my bed and bent over to grab some bedclothes from my trunk. It was the last light of dusk, dark enough to sleep in but light enough to see. If Hagen was awake, he's getting a pretty nice show now. On a whim I just wiggled my butt back and forth, which elicited a sharp breath from somewhere behind me; so apparently he was enjoying the show after all.