The Wilde Irish Solstice

Wilde Irish Solstice

This is my Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023 Story.

A Norwegian Viking woman is forced to flee Wexford, Ireland, after it was sacked by the Danes. She moves to a nearby farm to live with an Irish farmer she befriended earlier. As the days grow shorter, both prepare to celebrate the Winter Solstice, sharing their Irish and Viking traditions.

Author's Note: This story focuses on Holiday traditions, and has very limited sex. If you prefer those types of stories, please read one of the many other wonderful Winter Holiday 2023 stories.

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Chapter 1 - The Aftermath

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After the sacking of Wexford by the Danes three months ago, I went to live with my friend Éamonn on his farm, along with his sister Mary. Mary lost her husband two years ago, in one of the almost continuous battles fought between Irish chieftains. Life on the farm was peaceful and quiet, and the three of us managed to bring in a modest harvest.

But communication between the three of us was limited due to our different native languages. We could point to objects and say their name, and I learned many such Irish names. I also learned a few words for doing things, like getting firewood or sweeping the floor. But I could not build sentences nor understand the conversations between Éamonn and Mary.

I decided to return to Wexford and see what happened to my home. I had not seen Wexford since Éamonn and I rushed toward the town during the initial raid by the Danes. We stopped before reaching it, as it was clear the Danes would prevail. As I walked the narrow streets, I came up to four Danes, and hoped to pass by without incident. However, one stepped into my path, and I guessed his intent.

"Looks like I've found me a Nordlander," he laughed through his rotting teeth, thus making his intentions clear about a Norwegian woman.

I did not cower. Instead, I walked right up to him and grabbed his manhood through his trousers, then looked him in the eye to hold his attention. I shouted, "Looks like I've found me a Big One!" This drew raucous laughter from his three friends. A wicked smile formed on the Dane's lips.

Just then, I drove my knee into his crotch. He doubled over, and I pushed his head away from me, causing him to topple backward as he groaned in pain. I glanced over at his three friends, fearing I would need to run for it, when one of them yelled, "She's too much woman for you Knute!"

Another laughed, "Better find yourself an Irish wenche, Knute! If anything down there still works."

I was relieved at their humorous responses, but did not tarry. I quickly stepped past Knute and hurried toward my former Wexford home. On the way, I met a local Norwegian merchant I knew, and he shook his head.

"You should leave right away Elin. I'm ruined. The Danes took everything. They control all the ships. There is no escape by sea. Most of our warriors were killed. A few survivors swore loyalty to the Danes and have joined with them. Others are trying to walk to Dublin with their families. Most of the Irish have fled into the countryside and gone back to their families."

I thanked him, then quickly hurried to my Wexford home. As expected, it had been ransacked, my strongbox emptied, and most of my possessions looted. I did locate a small coin purse they had overlooked, containing a few pieces of silver, then gathered some clothing and grooming items.

I glanced back at my house. The disarrayed mess, a few worthless possessions, and nothing but loneliness. There was no future for me here.

Carrying what little I had left, I headed back to Éamonn's farm via a different route.

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Chapter 2 - The Smell of Woodsmoke

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The weeks passed quickly on Éamonn's farm. Éamonn and I continued to have sex, and I found him to be an attentive and caring lover. Out of respect for Mary, Éamonn and I never made love in the small, thatched roof cottage while Mary was there. Instead, we would go to a small clearing in the nearby forest. As the days grew shorter, and temperatures lower, we carried a blanket, but knew it would no longer be possible when winter arrived.

One day, Éamonn took Mary to a neighbor's farm, helping her carry some wool and cloth. I took the opportunity to pour water into a wooden basin, remove my clothing, and clean my body. Like many in Norway, I like to bathe at least once a week, and I was happy when both Éamonn and Mary adopted the same habit here. I had even managed to cut Éamonn's long hair, using a knife combined with much tugging and pulling. Given this crude method, I knew the pain and anguish on Éamonn's face was mostly real. But the result was an improvement. I had also given Mary one of my two precious combs, and she began combing her hair every day.

The door to the cottage opened, and thus startled, I turned. It was Éamonn. I had not expected him to return so quickly, so I said the Irish word 'Early'. He made a flicking motion with his fingers, and said the word 'Run'. I stood there naked and turned away from him to face the fire burning in the hearth.

Éamonn came up behind me and hugged me. He took several deep breaths as his nose and mouth worked their way through my long hair, pushing it aside until he reached my bare neck. He began nuzzling me, and my senses leaped to attention as he started kissing my neck.

I turned to face him. The hearth fire reflected in his eyes, but inside him, I could see a deeper burn. He looked at my naked body and said the word for 'beauty'. Éamonn reached his hand behind my head and pulled me close. Our lips met in a fiery, passionate kiss. I smelled woodsmoke on his skin, his sweat, and his sensual musky scent. He led me to my bed, we laid down next to each other, and released our passions.

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Chapter 3 - A Visitor

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One day, a tall, bearded man approached the cottage on a horse drawn wagon. When he saw me, he shouted "Hei!", and introduced himself as Håkon Gunnarsen. It was the first time I had heard my native tongue outside of Wexford. I returned the greeting as he stepped down from the wagon. He was from Norway! After several successful raids, Håkon decided to stay in Ireland. He bought a farm, and married the daughter of a local chieftain. The later ensured his safety, as few Irish were willing to risk the wrath of the chieftain. But he was also a generous man, sharing his wealth with the needy, and thus lived in peace with his Irish neighbors.

News in Ireland traveled slowly, spreading mainly by word of mouth. Travelers were always welcome, bringing news of the larger world with them. He told us Dublin had fallen to the Danes, and many Nordlanders were trying to return to Norway, or seek a ship willing to take them to Iceland. He was fluent in both Old Norse and Irish, and helped Éamonn, Mary, and I with our vocabulary. With his help, we were able to connect objects with actions and build simple sentences. He stayed the entire day, and by the time he left, we could ask each other questions, and understood simple words such as have, make, give, know, want, do, and love.

I thanked Håkon as he left. The news about Dublin was unwelcome, and I pondered my future. I was still young and attractive, and could go to one of the towns controlled by the Danes. I suspected the Danes did not bring many women with them, as few dared cross the Nord Sea in open longships as I had done. It would be a simple matter to find a husband, as long as I submitted to his will.

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Chapter 4 - The Coming Solstice

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The nights had gotten longer, and the days shorter. I wondered how close we were to the winter solstice. I asked Éamonn if he knew. He motioned he could go to the nearby small town and ask, but it would be easier to watch for the bonfires which would be lit on the night of the solstice. Éamonn and I gathered firewood and built a large pyre. I was happy to see that the Irish lit bonfires, the same as we do in Norway for Yule.

I was sitting in the cottage, and saw Mary open the pantry. She shook her head at our diminishing supply of food. I felt guilty for taking their food, and wondered if there would be enough for a Yule feast like we had in Norway.

I went outside and saw Éamonn sharpening his old axe, then I spoke the Irish word for hunger. He looked over at the lone rooster. Éamonn ran his finger across his own neck and the meaning was clear. We would have a meat for the solstice feast, but killing the rooster came with a heavy price. We still had two hens, but there would be no chicks in the spring, and no chickens to eat next summer.

I heard the approach of a wagon, and looked to see our Norwegian Viking friend, Håkon Gunnarsen. He told us that the solstice would be in two more days, and asked if we needed anything from town. Éamonn thanked him, and shook his head. Like me, Éamonn knew that everything in town cost silver. I had spent down what I had from Wexford, and had none left. I twisted the silver Fede ring that Éamonn had given me the day we first met, but it was small, and even if sold, would only buy a few day's worth of grain. It was worth far more to me than that.

The only thing I had of value was my sword. I spoke with Håkon in Norwegian, and asked him to meet me over the next hill so Éamonn could not see us. Éamonn told a story about when he was young, and his parents celebrated the solstice. Håkon translated it for me. Éamonn called the solstice 'Grianstad', and Håkon said it meant 'sun stop'. For a few days before and after the solstice, the sun appears to rise and set at the same point of the horizon. I needed a distraction so I could retrieve my sword.

I asked Håkon to tell the story of the Wild Hunt, where the All-Father, Odin, rides his eight-legged horse while leading a hunting party through the night sky. The lit bonfires guided his way. I excused myself and went into the cottage while Éamonn and Mary continued listening to Håkon. I retrieved my sword and made my way to the meet.

The wagon came along about 5 minutes later, and I presented my sword to Håkon. It was a quality steel sword, rare among the Irish, and would make a worthy trade. He knew the value of swords, and was surprised I would be willing to part with it. But I told him a starving hand could not wield even the finest sword.

I asked Håkon to trade it for steel arrowheads, and I would make a bow for Éamonn to hunt small animals. With any silver left over, I asked Håkon to bring back as much food as he could. He asked if I was sure, I nodded, then he reluctantly agreed, saying he would do his best.

Éamonn and Mary were waiting for me at the cottage. With the solstice so near, there was renewed vigour in our preparations. The three of us went out to collect holly to decorate the cottage. I was happy to join in, as we also use Holly to decorate in Norway. Holly was a symbol that the green world could not be conquered by winter, and the red berries symbolized life.

When we returned, Mary started intensely cleaning the cottage, and I helped by sweeping the floor and cleaning the hearth. Mary left sprigs of Holly and berries throughout the cottage, and made a ring of Holly for the front door. Meanwhile, Éamonn made whitewash and touched up the outside walls of the cottage.

For the Viking solstice we burn a Yule Log for twelve days. Here, as we were unprepared, and with the solstice so near, that would not be possible. Éamonn and I went out and cut a smaller log from a partially toppled, leaning oak tree. I hoped it would last several days. In Norway, oak is a symbol of strength and wisdom, and is associated with the God Thor. When we returned to the cottage, I used a knife to carve runes into the Yule Log asking for the protection of the Norse gods. When I finished, we placed the log into the hearth and started the fire.

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Chapter 5 - Yule!

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After dinner, Éamonn, Mary, and I went outside and lit the bonfire. By habit, I carried a small knife with me for protection. We looked out and saw other fires already burning brightly, scattered among the nearby farms. It was incredibly quiet, the only sounds being a few night birds and the crackle of the fire. Then we heard distant singing.

In Norway, we light solstice bonfires to ward off evil spirits and bring light back to the world on the longest night. I did not have the words to convey that meaning to Éamonn and Mary, but I hoped the Irish felt the same way about a bonfire.

I wanted to explain the Viking view of the solstice to Éamonn and Mary, so I found two round stones. Placing one on the ground, I said the word for 'home'. Placing the other stone next to it, I said the word for 'sun'. I rolled the sun stone away from the home stone, and then stopped. I said the word that Éamonn had used earlier for the solstice, 'Grianstad'. Then I rolled the sun stone back to the home stone. This was not actually correct, as neither the earth nor sun were round. Rather, the sun was a wheel. But Éamonn and Mary nodded their heads, and I hoped they understood.

Mary said she was cold, and went back into the cottage. Éamonn and I stood and stared at the fire. Fire has a way of drawing attention to itself, freeing the mind and allowing thoughts to temporarily escape the body. In Norway, Yule is a time to release our negative energy, to reflect on the past year, and set goals for the new year. A time for renewal of body and spirit, and be open to embrace new possibilities. I sorely needed all these things.

Facing the fire, the shadows in our life fall behind us, so we do not dwell on them. Rather, we keep our eyes pointed to the light, learn to treasure the present, and try to make it so wonderful that it is worth remembering.

Éamonn came up beside me, and took my hand. He led me away from the fire, over a small rise, and into the darkness. He pointed to the night sky, and as my eyes adjusted, I could see many familiar objects. I pointed out the Great Wagon and the Little Wagon, Loki's Torch, and the Bifrost Bridge. I realized the Éamonn had brought me here on purpose. This was the same night sky I could see from Norway, and in a way, it did make me feel closer to home.

A bright line of fire briefly flashed across the sky. It might be Odin's Wild Ride, as he led a hunting party through the skies, marking the end of the old year, and the beginning of the new.

But it might also be a Dreki flying across the night, breathing its fire, and bringing death, destruction, and chaos to some unknown place in the world. I touched my knife, not that it would protect me from a dragon, but I wanted to reassure myself just in case we spotted any dark elves. These icy pale-skinned draugr were most active in mid-winter when the veils between worlds were thinnest, and possessed magical powers such as producing a mist to cover their approach. I scanned the wood line for their glowing blue eyes, but saw none.

I shuddered, not from the cold, but from all the dangers in the world. Éamonn must have noticed, so he moved behind me and wrapped his arms around me. For the first time since the sack of Wexford, I was not afraid. Not of the Danes, or the Dreki, or the draugr, or even my own future. I felt safe in Éamonn's arms, and wished that feeling would last forever.

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Chapter 6 - Christmas Eve

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Three days later, Mary was in a frenzy again as she prepared for an Irish celebration called Christmas. The celebration started at sunset tonight and went into tomorrow. All work had to be completed before then. After tidying the cottage, Mary baked two loaves of bread with caraway seeds and raisins and left them on the table. Mary pointed and said it was the 'laden table'. She also placed a tallow candle in each of the front windows of the cottage. I did not see much of Éamonn during the day, as I was working on the bow I was making for him, and he had gone to a neighbor's farm, splitting firewood in exchange for cheese and fresh milk for the feast.

As night fell, Mary lit the candles, and the three of us stepped outside. All around us, in the distance, we could see small pinpricks of light from the many candles placed in the windows of every farm. Éamonn said the candles were to guide two travelers, named Mary and Joseph, as they looked for shelter on the darkest of nights.

I looked to the north, and saw a faint green glow, extremely low on the horizon, a distant sign of home. It made me realize how far away I was, and I wondered if I would ever see my home again.

Over the next hill, we heard the ringing of bells, and the sound of a wagon approaching. A lantern appeared, and as the wagon drew nearer, I recognized Håkon Gunnarsen. He was wearing a hooded red cloak and wore a wreath of holly on his head. With his grey beard, he looked like Odin himself! I hoped he was bringing the steel arrowheads and food I had asked him to get from the town.

Håkon called out, "Nollaig Shona Duit!" He brought the wagon to a stop and told me the words meant 'Merry Christmas'.

As he got down, the three of us hugged him, and wished him the same. Håkon went to the back of his wagon, and returned with a large, wrapped bundle. He placed it on the ground, and told Mary to open it. Inside was a beef roast, two bags of grain, and a large piece of colorful cloth big enough for Mary to make a new dress.

Håkon went to the back of the wagon again, returning with a smaller bundle, and handed it to Éamonn, who unwrapped it. Inside was a new iron axe head, and I was happy to see the bundle also included ten steel arrowheads. Håkon had done well trading my sword.

Once more, Håkon went to the back of the wagon and returned with a long thin package. He handed it to me, and I opened it. It was my sword! He told me no Viking should be without their sword. In the spirit of Christmas giving, he had bought gifts for Mary and Éamonn.

Éamonn went up to Håkon and whispered something to him.

"Oh," said Håkon Gunnarsen as he nodded. He then looked at me and said, "Éamonn doesn't know the words to use, so I will assist him."

Éamonn would say a sentence in Irish, Håkon translated it into Norse, and whispered it into Éamonn's ear. Éamonn then repeated each in Norse, one sentence at a time, while looking at me.

"Elin, I love you very much."

"Elin, I love your beautiful face."

"Elin, I love the way your lips move when you smile."

"Elin, I love the way your lips taste."

"Elin, I love your clear blue eyes."

"Elin, I love the melodic sound of your voice and the way you laugh."

"Elin, I love the smell of sunshine in your hair, and the way it moves in a gentle breeze."

"Elin, you have made me very happy being here."

"Elin, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Elin, will you marry me?"

Éamonn's words were beautiful, almost poetic, and even more special because he said them in the Norse language. I was stunned, and could not speak for several seconds.

"Well, Elin?" asked Håkon Gunnarsen. "Let's have your answer, I have other farms to visit tonight!"

I was as happy here on the farm with Éamonn as I had ever been, and seeing the Northern Lights made me realize how difficult it would be to return to Norway. I took the faint green of the Northern Lights as a sign from Odin that I should remain in this lush green land called Ireland. "YES!" I replied.

Éamonn rushed to me, we hugged, and then kissed.

Mary congratulated us as Håkon stepped closer. He looked at me and said, "I hope you will be as happy here in Ireland as I. Please accept this as a wedding present from me." He reached into his pocket and handed me a gold coin. It glistened in the light of his lantern.

I said, "Thank you so much, Håkon! For everything!"