Sacrificial Lamb Pt. 04-05

"Hmm, a jilted lover then?"

"A rapist, and a torturer."

Vidar's face hardened slightly at those words, coming to a stop in front of her. "And which of our kinred treated you this way?"

"Fosta."

Vidar looked blankly at Hemma for a moment before laughing again. "My nephew does not have it in his heart to abuse a woman. I am sure there was some mistake."

At this Hemma bristled. Were all gods the same? Oblivious of their wrongdoings and incapable of taking responsibility.

She felt her body warm and her eyes glow. "The only mistake, Vidar, was me thinking I could ask another god for help. He abused me and took advantage of me, and thinks he has done me a favor. I did not ask for any of it, in fact, I actively fought against him. He knew I did not want any of it. He raped me, he tortured me, and he killed me. There was no mistake." Hemma spat the last word as her body vibrated with rage.

"Of course, it is always possible... many gods have turned against their nature... but my nephew is good in his heart. His intentions are never accompanied by malice. If this is true, you are right, he does deserve to be punished. But I cannot bring lasting harm to him."

"Cannot, or will not?"

"Both?" Vidar shrugged.

"So you would let him continue on as if nothing happened, just because he is your nephew? Because you share blood?"

"I didn't say I would do nothing." Vidar appeared deep in thought for a moment. "It is done."

"It? What is done? What did you do?" Hemma watched the god warrily as he sat back on his throne, propping a foot up and lounging like he had when she arrived.

"You said he abused you with his cock, so I took away his ability to find satisfaction."

"You... did what?!"

"Satisfaction. Orgasm. He won't be able to cum, my beautiful wife. He can fuck and self pleasure as much as he wants but will never be able to reach his completion. At least for the next year." Vidar chuckled, "Trust me, it is a most frustrating punishment."

"No, that's not... That isn't what I want! That will only make him angry! He will continue seeking me out and want revenge! I need to stop him, not annoy him!"

"It is the best I can do on your behalf, without angering my family."

"Then don't do anything yourself, just help me. Help me get justice, please. If he gets to me again, he won't let me go. Not again." Hemma was at the brink of tears. Vidar was the god of vengeance, he was supposed to help her, not give Fosta more reason to track her down.

Vidar watched the young goddess' shoulders slump and her eyes fill with tears, and he knew his humor driven actions were not going to be enough.

Unlike human marriages, the bonding of two gods created eternal ties. His new wife might not want anything to do with him now, but he was patient, and if he wanted this goddess to someday see him as an eternal partner he had a feeling he would need to do better than pull a prank on his nephew.

"I will help you get your vengeance," Vidar sighed.

Hemma looked up, hopeful, but skeptical. Vidar reached in front of himself, and appeared to pull something out of midair. Holding it up, Hemma saw what looked like a chain, looped around and large enough to fit on one's arm.

Vidar explained. "This is a powerful relic. Not unlike the relics that protect this temple, this one can block a god's, or goddess', magic. When worn, the wearer will essentially become powerless. It will give you the advantage of strength and magic, and only the one who put it on the god can take it off again."

He held it out to Hemma who stepped forward to take it. When she took it, Vidar closed his hands around hers, trapping her in place. "Use this against Fosta, but do not kill him. He might have made mistakes but he is good and he means well."

He looked into Hemma's eyes and she nodded. She didn't want Fosta to die. She just wanted him to pay for what he had done.

Vidar pulled her closer until she could feel his breath on her face. He smelled of earth and cinnamon and she couldn't say she didn't like it. "See you at the end of the world." He leaned in and kissed her forehead... and then he was gone.

...

Halvor, the priest, watched as the new apprentice received her rites. This should have been routine, like every other priestess who had entered this temple, but something was off. This girl was too strong, the herbs were not working, She was fighting them as if she didn't know this was going to happen. He wasn't feeling good about any of this, but he wasn't in charge here. In this space he was just following the high priest who, Halvor had a suspicion, had a particular dislike for the women of the temple. Women as a whole really. Halvor had heard rumors that the high priest had come to the temple of the god of vengeance after his wife was found in the bed of another man. He came for vengeance and stayed when the seer told him his fate was to lead this temple.

The high priest used the stone rune on the woman before them as it had been used on many women before her, and Halvor recited the same marriage pact that all who joined the temple were given.

This time, however, there was a vibration in the air. As Hemma reached her peak, the room filled with static that made his hair stand on end. And then, she was floating. Rising off the stone and into the air, even as guards made to hold her down. Once a foot off the stone, her eyes snapped open, glowing red in the dimly lit room. They shone bright enough to fill the room with an eerie red hue.

...

Hemma opened her eyes and she knew they were glowing. She felt her magic rush back into her body, as if it had been spring loaded, snapping back into place after being stretched far away. She was floating, she felt powerful, she felt more herself than she had in a long time. She moved to stand on the stone she had been held to and found herself looking at the scared and confused faces of the temple guards and priests.

They had all stepped back and frozen in place, shocked. But this didn't last long, and the guards came toward her again, reaching to pull her down. Before their hands made contact, Hemma knocked them back without moving, sending them roughly against the wall, knocking the guards unconscious. The three priests stood, frozen with shock. Hemma looked at the one still holding the stone phallus and was filled with rage. She reached out and grabbed him by the throat, easily lifting him to her eye level, his legs dangling.

"Please!" He squeaked, eyes wide, "Please, we didn't know you didn't know!"

Hemma smiled. "You knew." And she knew she was right. This was not a good man. She squeezed, watching his eyes lose focus and roll to the back of his head. The phallus hit the ground with a thud as it slipped from his limp fingers, soon followed by the rest of his body. He was only unconscious, but Hemma hoped he was bruised from the fall.

One priest watched on in horror, the other in awe. Hemma sent the horrified priest across the room like the guards, knocking him unconscious against the far wall.

...

Halvor was terrified. The high priest's body laid at his feet, the guards unconscious, and his student sent flying behind him. The woman then focused on him and he felt like he might crumple under the weight of her attention.

"You are not like the others." Her voice filled the room, sounding like it had come from all directions at once. Her eyes continued to glow red, and Halvor noticed that even though she was standing on the stone platform, her feet were hoving about an inch off the surface.

"Neither are you." He spoke, not recognizing his own voice, so stained and unsure.

This seemed to amuse the woman, and she laughed quietly to herself, the sound like music.

"No, I guess I'm not... What's your name?"

"Halvor."

"Halvor, I think I need your help."

"Oh..?" He had no idea how he could possibly help this powerful woman.

"I could really use some clothes..."

"Oh! Yes! Yes, of course!" Halvor scrambled around, suddenly remembering she was still naked, and searched the room for her dress. Finding it in a small pile at the base of the altar, he scooped it up and shook out the wrinkles. Stumbling over his own feet he made it back to Hemma and kneeled, presenting the garment with trembling hands. He felt her take it and stared straight ahead, which meant he ended up staring at the small gap between her feet and the stone where gravity seemed not to exist.

When he saw the hem of the dress at her ankles he snuck a peek up at her, only to be met with those eyes. Their light was no longer filling the room, but they still glowed red. She placed something into her pocket.

"What... are you...?" He managed.

"I suppose you could call me a goddess..." Halvor saw her face fall at these words and wondered why it made her sad, though he dare not ask.

"I... haven't heard of you? My lady." He quickly added the title.

"You wouldn't have. If you don't mind showing me to the seer, I would appreciate it."

Halvor nodded, standing and offering a hand to help Hemma down before he thought about it.

She gave him a small smile and took his hand, floating rather than stepping off the stone slab.

...

Hemma liked this priest. She watched his back as he led her down a few corridors and steps. She didn't know how, but she could sense that he was a good man. Similar to the way she could sense the magic of other gods, she could feel the soul of this human, as if it were a tangible thing. She wondered for a moment if this was how Fosta felt souls, saw into them to read a person's true intentions. To pull out their corruption.

As they walked through the temple, people stopped in their tracks to stare. Hemma walked across the room without touching the floor, enjoying the looks of awe and fear. Her eyes continued to glow and she allowed it, deciding it would be a lot easier to get what she wanted if these people feared her. At least for the moment.

She was led back down the stairs where the seer had seen her the first time. Halvor walked quickly, back straight and arms stiff, without speaking a word. As they came to the bottom of the stairs, loud conversation abruptly ended. It had sounded like about a dozen priests and priestess had been arguing, but when Hemma entered the room it ended. The seer stood, smiling. Her unseeing eyes looked right at Hemma and she clapped her hands, making the congregation jump at the break in silence.

"She returns!" The seer sounded extremely happy.

"My lady!" A priestess ran forward, falling onto her knees. "Thank you for blessing us with your visit. If you had let us known earlier who you were-"

"Stop." Hemma interrupted. She didn't like this drastic shift in treatment. "I am not here to see you. I have spoken to your lord, Vidar, and have gotten what I need from him. I am leaving but I want to speak to your seer before I go."

The seer stepped forward, smiling, and bowed. "How may I serve you, my lady?"

"The vision you saw... explain it to me."

The seer looked a little confused at the request. "Did you not see it as well? I thought I had felt you there with me..."

"I saw it," Hemma said. "But what you said after, the prophecy..."

The seer closed her eyes and recited it again.

"Killed in greed,

Forged in fire,

Embrace new life,

Beware vengeful desire.

Both ultimate destruction and rebirth,

Both flame and nourishing water,

The broken world on Ragnarok

will be healed by the one called Home."

She looked up at Hemma again, with those eyes that were white where they should have been black. Hemma waited. Realizing she was still waiting for an explanation, the seer explained, "It is your history, my lady. Past, present, and future. You are our goddess of fire, rebirth, and healing." She paused, confused. "You don't know this?"

Hemma nodded, knowing deep down that the seer's words rang true. "I do know." This is who I am now, she thought. "I am this goddess."

...

Hemma decided to make a dramatic exit, feeling like it fit the circumstances, and drew on her magic. It felt easier than it had before as she burst into flames, transforming into a phoenix and flying out of the temple. Startling temple members, she sent some screaming and running while stunning others who froze in their spot, staring.

Taking to the skies she knew exactly where she was heading. She felt strong and confident. She was a goddess and she had great power. She had an important future and no other person or god would take advantage of her again.

...

A week later, Hemma decided she was ready. Practicing her magic in the woods would only get her so far, and after the eighth day, Hemma couldn't bring herself to delay it any longer.

Moving quickly with the wind, Hemma made it back to the caves in the cliffs within the day. She spotted the library and came to a landing, transforming before her feet touched the ground. She had kept the dress from the temple in her claws, and quickly put it back on, not wishing to confront Fosta in the nude. Once dressed, she saw it.

Ospree was there, watching Hemma with big eyes. Chains held her arms to the ceiling and her legs to the floor in the middle of the room. She was covered in dried blood, bruises dotting every visible part of her. "Hemma! What are you doing here?!" Her voice came out in a rasp, barely above a whisper.

Hemma stepped forward, feeling even more justified in what she was about to do. She reached up, unhooking Ospree's cuffs from the hooked chain hanging from the ceiling. Ospree would have collapsed if Hemma hadn't caught her. "I can't hide you from him if you are here. He tried to make me tell him, to make me stop masking your magic, but I didn't tell him. I swear I didn't!"

"I believe you." Hemma consoled the goddess who was near hysterics, as she lowered her to the ground so she could free her legs. "You can stop hiding me from him now. I am ready to face him."

Ospree looked up at her, concerned and confused. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, let him come."

Hemma felt when it happened, like a shield was being lifted and she was exposed. She managed to untangle her feet, but the cuffs on Ospree's wrists wouldn't budge. Hemma helped her over to the furs and pillows, laying her down. She then sat down next to her, watching the sky, waiting for Fosta to return.

...

Fosta walked down the hundredth street of the hundredth village he had searched. Even in his human form he was imposing and people gave him a wide berth as he stalked their settlements. The longer he looked the more frustrated and angry he became. How dare she hide from him, HIM. The one who gave her power and immortality, who wanted to care for her and protect her. He had worked hard and suffered long enough, and he deserved this small piece of happiness.

His frustration was only magnified by the fact that he'd had blue balls for the past week straight, that no amount of self pleasure seemed to cure.

He stopped in the middle of a long stride. She was there, he could feel her magic. He knew exactly where she was.

...

She didn't have to wait long. She felt him before she saw him when he appeared in the doorway that led into his dungeon.

"Hemma," He breathed, finally seeing her after all this time. Fosta had lived countless generations, but the last two weeks had been the longest two weeks he had ever experienced. Finally seeing her again, Fosta felt like his heart might burst. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and her magic burned bright.

"Fosta." She replied evenly, rising from the pillows to face him. He approached her and she tensed. Knowing he would touch her again and actually facing it were two different things entirely. He walked right up to her in four long strides and swiped her up into a huge hug, breathing in her scent, basking in the feel of her body against his.

Hemma felt like she was suffocating. His smell filled her nose and she felt her stomach clench. Being reminded of the feel of him was not entirely unpleasant. Even if it had been unwanted, Fosta had brought her pleasure alongside the pain, and the memories of that pleasure tried to weaken her resolve.

"You came back to me. I knew you would..." He paused, sensing something was different. He took a step back, holding her at arm's length, looking her over. "What is that?"

Hemma's heart dropped. There was no way he knew what she held gripped tight in her fist, her gift from Vidar. Instead of going for her fist, however, Fosta put a hand to her ribcage, moving it up, stopping just under her left breast. Hemma tried her best not to flinch away, not wanting to fight him yet.

"Who's mark is this?"

The brand.

It had healed quickly once Hemma regained her magic, but it had left a subtle scar. She had forgotten about it until just now.

"Fosta, it doesn't mean anything."

"I said, who's mark is this?" He was getting angry now. "Show me!"

"Wait!" He didn't listen. Before she knew it, Hemma's dress had been torn down the middle and it hung loosely from her shoulders as Fosta pulled it away from her chest so he could see the mark.

Vidar's mark stood out clearly on her pale skin, and Hemma watched Fosta's face as he processed this new information.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Fosta! No! Listen." Hemma took his face in her hands and forced his gaze away from the mark. "It isn't what you think. It is just a burn-"

"It is not just a burn. I can feel it going deeper than skin. Did you bond with him? You are mine!"

Fosta grabbed Hemma by the arms and pushed her onto the pillows where Ospree was still laying, hands bound. She opened her eyes wide and moved to stand up.

"Uncle! Don't-" She was cut off by a pulse of magic that knocked her unconscious.

Hemma fought back now, reigning in her magic that she had been practicing these past two weeks. She felt when it came into contact with Fosta's magic and it felt like a wall of steel. She pushed against him, trying to pull her arms away and Fosta was briefly taken by surprise. He knew she would fight and be strong, but she was must stronger than he had anticipated.

She was still not stronger than him.

Fosta regained control, with some effort, and pushed Hemma hard into the pillows, pressing his body against hers, loving the way she fit with him.

Hemma lost the fight, balling both hands into fists, hoping against all hope that he didn't notice the rune she still clutched. He was too stong and even with her growing magic, her subdued her. Sweat beaded on both of their foreheads.

Fosta could only feel pride in that moment, at her strength and resilience. A feeling that quickly shifted to lust as he throbbed painfully as she struggled against him. She felt his growing member grinding into her hip and she whimpered, realizing she might not get out of this unscathed.

"I have been hard for days looking for you," Fosta growled. "I am going to remind you who you belong to."

Fosta took both her wrists in one hand over her head, using the other to pull up the hem of her dress. Hemma screamed and struggled against him.

"Not some weak human," Fosta pulled himself out of his pants. Hemma looked down and saw a cock unlike the one she had seen before, rock hard and throbbing, beat red and with a blue head. It looked uncomfortably hard.

"Not any other god," Fosta lined himself up with her opening. To Hemma's horror she realized she was actually wet. Was it being back with Fosta, the rough treatment, or just the realization of what was about to happen that had made her ready? Fosta smiled when he felt her.

Looking into her shining red eyes with his own glowing blue, he thrust into her. She screamed, feeling more stretched than she had since the last time she had been with Fosta. It hurt and brought tears to her eyes. Fosta thrust into her.

"You. Are. Mine." He punctuated each word with a violent thrust, pinning Hemma to the pillows and drawing out a cry each time. She tried to look away, but he grabbed her jaw, forcing her face towards his. When she closed her eyes, he leaned in for a kiss, taking her lips with his own. She held still, clenching her jaw shut as he painfully and forcefully devoured her mouth. He picked up the speed, pounding into her violently, using her body for himself, not caring for her pleasure.