Moonkiss

Rhycard took a deep breath, and steadied himself, then turned to Vera, who was looking at him with eyes full of alarmed shock. He then glanced at the bound man - commander Vole - whom he had shared meals with, and fought side by side with on numerous occassions. Rhycard pressed his lips tightly together - unsure whether what he was about to do was brave, or foolish. "I am."

"Sir Rhycard.. No!" Vera exclaimed, rushing forward and grabbing the knight's arm. "Please. Don't do this." She was panicked, her blue eyes wide, her face pale as snow, and her hold was strong.

Elder Solvin held up a hand to quiet her, then raised his voice in order to make sure every man and woman present heard his next words. "You heard the demon. He is willing to die in the true coward's place. And that.." He paused again, and smiled at Rhycard - this time, a friendlier one. "... That makes him brave."

Both men and women in the crowd began to chant, and beat their chests, yelling out something which sounded like gibberish to the young knight, but was clearly meaningful to them. The sound was so alien that Rhycard could only assume it was some kind of ritualistic chant. A battle cry? It echoed through the woods, bouncing off the trees and back again as if they were calling for more voices - for their brother and sister tribesmen far away to join in the song.

The Elder stepped forward, and nodded. "You are strange. But you are strong." There was a hint of respect in his voice - something Rhycard had rarely been afforded. He had fought many battles, yes - and won, perhaps. But he had also killed countless men. Bathed in their blood on fields of endless red. The warriors of the north seemed to have forgotten this. Or did not seem to mind it. "You wish for your kin to be let go? Very well. I shall release him. But..." Solvin took hold of the knight by the hand, his grip firm, and spoke softly. His eyes searched his own - searching deep into Rhycard's very being - as if trying to determine whether or not he could be trusted. "You will fight for my tribe. For us."

Sir Rhycard didn't quite know how to respond to this - at first. His heart skipped a beat, then began beating wildly in his chest, though his face remained frozen, calm. The crowd had gone silent - no longer cheering or chanting - as if the situation demanded their complete and undivided attention. But as the knight looked around at them, he saw that most of them were smiling. Somehow, he had won their approval, even though he knew they thought him a demon.

"I..." The knight hesitated - not certain of his words, or of what exactly was at stake. "I cannot. I have pledged my life to-"

Elder Solvin shook his head. "Do not worry," he said gently. "More ways than one to fight. I will not demand you to raise a blade towards your own brethren."

Sir Rhycard looked at Vera, whom nodded her head enthusiastically - encouraging him to accept. The way she stared at him.. it seemed she would break down in tears if he did not. She was so beautiful, even when upset. It made her all the more mysterious and bewitching.

"I accept, so long as I do not have to break my former oaths."

--- 7 ---

When they returned to the tent of the Fylja, commander Vole was placed on a cot to rest and recover his health, with Rhycard sitting opposite him. Somehow, he was aware of what had transpired, because he opened his mouth - despite it clearly causing him pain - and mumbled a heartfelt 'thank you' to Sir Rhycard. Then, he passed out. His life had been spared.

Myrja had looked at Rhycard with her jaw dropped ever since before they even returned - and finally, she found her voice. "You are crazy, demon. Bonkers. Head full of lunacy. But so brave. If Vera allows it, I will carry your babies."

Vera nearly choked on her own spit, then turned to Myrja with a frown. "You know you cannot say that." She sat down beside the knight, wrapping an arm around him - nuzzling in close, as if to mark her territory. Her hair was no longer in braids, falling down over her shoulders - lustrous, but unkempt - and the way her pale skin seemed to glow, it was as if she was always bathed in the light of the moon.

Nila was in the background, humming some kind of song, stirring some kind of soup in an ironcast pot which smelled mouth-watering, but even she kept looking at Rhycard with disbelief and a certain sexual longing. He tried not to pay it any attention.

"I'm just saying.." Myrja continued, leaning against the large supporting pole in the middle of the tent. "The man is special." She nodded towards Rhycard as if he was some sort of priced cattle, then smiled that crooked smile of hers. "A survivor, and so much more."

"Aye. That, I agree with. He's something else." Nila nodded to herself, smiling - and Rhycard felt uncomfortable that they were talking about him as if he wasn't there.

"It was reckless," Vera spoke - her voice serious. "To offer yer life." She kept nuzzling his side, resting her head on his shoulder, snuggling up to him, all soft curves and supple flesh. She looked up at him with those frost-smitten eyes which pierced right through his own. There was a longing in them - not lustful, but an eagerness to get closer to him. To know him. "When you get better, we must marry.." she cooed, inching ever so slightly closer - her lips only inches away from his own, as if to tempt him. She smelled of something exotic - a captivating scent that made his blood rush in his veins.

He cleared his throat. "What.. What does marriage mean to you? And to your people?" he asked, attempting to sound as gentle and reassuring as he could, despite the situation being awkward and strange.

Vera looked thoughtful for a moment. "For my people, it means we are bound as one. Your sword is my shield, my axe is your armour." She swallowed audibly, and hesitated before she continued. "For me, it means that we promise to love each other.. protect each other.. until our last days.." Her voice grew quieter as she spoke - her cheeks darkening. She was embarrassed - though there was also something more in her tone which made him feel as if she wanted to be honest with him. As if there was a vulnerability there.

"And you fuck her every night," Myrja added without tact, "Like wild animals."

Vera's head perked up and she quickly glared at the blonde girl. "Myrja!" she hissed, "Don't speak of this!"

But Myrja just grinned. "Our people, we mostly make love in the rear. The front is meant for making babies - the back for pleasure. Is it true that the southerners do it differently?"

"Myrja!" Vera hissed again - though she seemed flustered now, and she turned to Rhycard with an expression that implied she was actually curious about the answer to the question as well. Rhycard swallowed hard, then gently pushed Vera away - an effort to give himself some space - but her hand instinctively grasped onto his, holding it in place.

He shook his head at Myrja, then gave the Fylja a stern look. "We.. We don't do it in the rear much at all," he admitted. "That is not our way of life."

"But then how is your women not always pregnant?" Nila spoke up, seemingly confused. "Is this why you don't have any woman warriors?" She cocked her head slightly. "Because you only fuck in the front, and keep making babies?"

Rhycard frowned slightly, but nodded - unsure of what else to do. Was that true? He could see the reasoning behind it, but it seemed.. Odd to him, to avoid having sex the normal way to prevent pregnancy. But many of the northern women were fierce warriors, shieldmaidens and skilled with a blade. The south did things differently. Women there were kept as possessions of their husbands - bought and sold like property, especially among the upper classes. Few married for love. Most did so for alliances, inheritance of land, or out of convenience. Even among the peasant folk, it was primarily a business transaction. But at least the women were kept away from the horrors of war.

"... You don't like my bottom?" Vera asked, suddenly seeming a little distressed - and she even got on her feet, pulled her pants down, and bent over so that he could take a proper look. Rhycard couldn't believe his eyes. "You don't want to love it?" In front of him, her round peach jiggling softly as she stood like that, seemingly eager for his attention. "It doesn't look appealing?"

Rhycard took a long, hard look at her supple cheeks, at the tiny crack between them - then swallowed hard. She was undeniably an appealing woman - more than beautiful, and sexy enough to make any man hard if he was able to see her in this state. He had trouble focusing his thoughts - though his instincts told him there was a clear reason why she wanted to know about his preferences in regards to her rear, and that he ought to choose his words carefully. And so he stared at her little rosebud, feeling the familiar warmth rise within him, the stir of blood - and suddenly he could feel his cock stiffen. The pink flesh looked so soft, so delicate - begging to be loved.

Vera's hand reached down to touch herself, parting her own cheeks slightly as if to entice him further, though she was unable to keep eye contact. Rhycard took a deep breath, then spoke, doing his best not to sound too keen. "I.. like your bottom well enough." Then he cleared his throat again - rubbing his neck in an attempt to mask the awkwardness. "More than enough."

"So you'd put your cock in it?" Vera asked - still not making eye contact - her voice barely above a whisper. The room seemed to grow all the more silent, and he had to admit that he wanted nothing more than to plunge into her depths right then and there, to fuck her arse until she screamed with pleasure.

"Uhh.., I'm not sure," he lied - but then felt guilty for doing so. "I mean.. If we were married, and you wanted me to, of course I would."

Vera quickly pulled her trousers back up. A hint of a smile tugged on her lips. Myrja let out an exaggerated sigh, and rolled her eyes. "If you two are done with your mating dance, I think dinner's ready."

--- 8 ---

Sir Rhycard gradually recovered some of his strength over the next few days. Each night, Vera kept him warm and comforted - stroking his head, talking softly to him, getting to know him better. Occasionally, she would get bold and grab onto one of his hands, placing it onto her naked body - either on her breasts, or on her bottom. But that was as far as they would take it, and she never made any attempt at reaching for his member, seemingly waiting for his permission. Eventually, however, she did take a deep breath and - in the middle of the night - she asked him:

"Ya don't want to kiss me?" Her words were charged, as if they implied something more - like he was being unfair, not giving her a chance.

Rhycard lay next to her in his cot, staring up into the darkness - a gentle wind making the cloth above them flutter gently - and he swallowed hard, considering his words before he spoke. He was unsure how to go about this, but he knew that if he didn't answer honestly, it would surely lead to future issues. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you," he began slowly, "I just.. I don't want to give you false hope until I am certain about this.. Marriage thing."

Vera pushed herself up on her elbows, her brow furrowed as if she was slightly hurt by his words. But she didn't protest - at least not yet - only tilting her head as if she was processing what he had said. "So.. If you are my man, and we love each other, ya would kiss me?" She kept staring at him with her intense eyes, as if trying to see through him. To find his secret thoughts and feelings. He wondered whether or not she really cared for him, or if it was merely part of some barbaric ritual of hers - though he had to admit that she seemed far too invested for it to be a game, and his guard was being dropped little by little for each day that passed.

"Of course. All the time." And he meant it. A part of him ached for this, to touch her, to taste her lips.

"Good," she replied, then let out a gentle sigh of relief. "But yer not sure about me? How can I convince ya, then?" There was a hint of impatience in her voice - the slightest of whimpers escaping her mouth - Vera making an effort to stay calm, though failing. "What must I do, to prove my worth to ya? Saving yer life's not good enough?"

Rhycard shifted slightly on the cot. The idea of bedding a savage made him feel guilty - though he wasn't entirely certain why. "Saving my life was.. You have my gratitude. But you said your people married for love. So I think we should hold off until.. Until we're in love?"

She inched closer to him, hovering over his face with her own. "How can ya know if you love me if ya don't kiss me?" she said softly. Her breath tickled against his skin, and he could feel his own body growing hot under the furs.

"I think.. You can feel it?" His heart was beating fast now, the warmth rushing down his body like molten lava. He swallowed hard, trying to remain composed - but Vera's lips were right there, and she looked at him with a gaze which was alluring, seductive... inviting.

"Ya don't feel nothing now?" Vera whispered, and inched closer still. "Ya don't feel it?" she repeated, more insistently this time. Rhycard took a deep breath, and pulled himself back on the cot into a slightly upright position. The northerner watched him carefully, waiting for his reply.

"... It feels wrong," he admitted. He glanced at her, watching her reaction. "I don't want to kiss you until I'm sure that.. You're going to be my wife, and I.. won't see anyone else."

"Ya like Myrja better? Is that it?"

"... No. That's not it."

Vera frowned, and it was clear she was a little upset. "Ya don't think I can make ya happy?" She raised an eyebrow, staring at him with a gaze that could cut through any armour. Her tone had shifted towards a more demanding one. "Yer not even giving me a chance. Just because I'm from the north? Ya have no respect for me." She huffed, and began to climb out of their bedding, but Rhycard grabbed her by the wrist. He wasn't sure where this came from, but the northerner looked surprised.

"No. That's not what I meant." He exhaled, letting go of her wrist - then pulled her back down into their cot. The wind outside grew stronger - the sounds of animals, nocturnal in nature, echoed through the forest around them as they sat there silently, gazing at each other.

Vera eyes wandered away as if in thought. Then, she looked back at him, and there was a wild kind of lust in her stare. "If you won't kiss me, then I'll kiss you," she said, determined. "And if ya hate it, then yer going to have to push me away." And then, just like that, she pressed her lips against his.

It was unexpected, and sudden. The heat of her soft mouth against his own was overwhelming - like a warm fire in the dead of winter. Her breath smelled sweet, and she tasted like cherries. He found himself kissing back before he could think about it, parting his lips to let her in. She instantly moaned, and the kiss grew more intense, as her tongue slipped into his mouth, lashing at his own, dancing with it. And he couldn't resist - he returned her affections, licking against her tongue, kissing her harder. Her lips felt so supple, so delicate, and all his instincts were screaming at him to continue - to keep kissing this beautiful creature for the rest of his life. To make her his.

"... I think ya love me," she said after their lips parted. "Yer just shy. Odd, that, seeing as you're brave." She was panting softly, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. Her fingers were still touching his cheek, and Rhycard suddenly felt lightheaded, lost in her touch - then realized he was hard again. The young knight could hardly believe himself. He was not usually one to have such reaction to an embrace. But this was no ordinary woman. And it was so wrong.. So forbidden.. so taboo.. "Ya wouldn't kiss me like that if ya didn't love me," she continued, seeming absolutely certain of her observations.

Suddenly, both his hands found themselves upon her behind, squeezing her round bottom - naked and firm. Vera giggled at that, pushing herself into him, as if begging for more contact. A part of him knew it was wrong, but a greater part of him was consumed by lust, and desire. He wanted to kiss her forever, to touch her all over... and he wanted to feel her arse around his cock - to fuck her. It had been so long since he had lain with a woman... And now there she was, on top of him, looking down upon him like a goddess, her bare tits exposed. He wondered if her pussy would be wet, if it was aching for him too. And so, without really thinking it through, he reached between her legs to investigate the matter - but was immediately stopped by her hands.

Vera took hold of his hand and pulled it away, then let out a soft sigh, which made his cock throb with need. She shook her head slowly, staring at him with those intensely blue eyes. "Not yet," she said softly, and there was a tone of disappointment in her voice. "If ya want me.. If ya truly love me.. Let me be yer wife. Marry me." She raised his hand to her lips and gently kissed it - then put it back down onto her back.

He wanted to protest, to tell her that he wanted to continue, to fuck her and kiss her for the rest of the night, but as she stared into his eyes he could only nod. And she smiled at him. "Good."

--- 9 ---

It was difficult for Rhycard to see commander Vole suffer. All the other men in the tent had a woman to care for them. Their own Fylja. But commander Vole had not been chosen. He was an outcast. A coward, in the eyes of the northerners. And only with great reluctance did anyone bother to feed him at all. His wounds were left unattended and Rhycard wondered if he'd be able to pull through relying on nothing but pure tenacity. The commander was tough, but not that tough - it was clear he was beaten and broken.

When the young knight talked to Vera about it, she explained that attending a man other than your own - in almost any capacity - was 'Forbannaad'. Wrong and shameful. It must not be done. And so, as Rhycard sat watching Vera spooning soup into commander Vole's mouth with a look of disgust upon her face, he thought about the strange nature of his new 'family' and their customs. Was Vole a prisoner here? Was he, himself, a prisoner without shackles? He was trapped in a land far away from home, where he was considered to be the enemy. Or was he?

"Why do you call me demon?" he spoke out of the blue - without looking towards the northerner woman - still focused on commander Vole. "I am no demon."

Vera turned towards him, the wooden spoon raised in her hand. "Ya might not know it, but you are." There was something in her voice that indicated that she felt it was factual, not merely opinion. She returned to spoon-feeding the bound commander Vole, who took small sips of soup with great effort.

"Then why do you think so? How do you see me as such?"

Vera shrugged her shoulders slightly. "When I saw ya laying on the battlefield.. ya weren't moving at all, and yer eyes were not there. The blood was pouring out of ya like water, but ya weren't screaming. And yet I could feel your heart - almost in the air. And I looked around ya, and saw the amount of my kin you had cut down. No part of that battlefield was painted in more blood than around where you had fallen." She paused, and gave him a small smirk. "No human could've done that. No human could've survived it. Yet I knew you would."

Rhycard blinked slowly. "A demon, huh?" He chuckled to himself. "More like a man not yet ready to die."

"That makes ya a demon!" Vera insisted. "For a mere man would not defy the Gods like that." Her face looked all serious - there was a passion in her voice which made it obvious she was speaking from a place of deep conviction. "Even with my aide, ya should have died. But look, now! You are well on yer way to recover, and soon you will not need me for my healing anymore." She frowned at that, and looked away from her husband-to-be for the first time since the conversation began. "When that happens, I want ya to know that I would still choose ya.."