War Songs

Ambrosia_64

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They had lost. What remained of her men braced the door as the roughened men threw themselves against the other side, demanding entrance.

Queen Ysolde looked around at the gathered old and young, the women huddled with their children, the townspeople who had not fled fast enough into the wilds.

All of them would die unless she made some sort of bargain, pleaded for the lives of her townsfolk. They had been loyal, she would suffer the humiliation if it saved their lives.

And her daughter...

"You are no relation to me." She hissed to the frightened, steely young woman, silencing her protests with a look. "You are no one. If our village survives, you will lead whomever you can into the plains and start fresh. For now, you let me make my tribute alone."

And she pushed her daughter into the crowd of villagers, willing her to blend in, to be one of them.

The doors buckled, men rushed in-and she found herself faced not with a warlord or a man of authority-but a bloodthirsty gang of marauders.

....

Screams echoed through out the encampment and into the night as women were pulled from the walls of the meeting house, their clothing torn from them as they were tossed aside, abandoned for the sword bearing Queen.

"You will NOT do this!" Ysolde demanded with all the airs afforded to her-even as they threw her to her knees and pulled her hair, forcing her taut-not in front of her people, not in front of her dau-

A Valkyrie war cry startled all of them as Ria, the queen's fair daughter, threw herself at the nearest attacker, pulling his knife and stabbing him in the shoulder. She retrieved the small blade, jumped off his back-and turned to face the next man, the tear tracks on her fair face shimmering in the torchlight, her fury twisting her features, blazing in her dark eyes.

Such a slip of a girl could never hope to overcome half a dozen armed brutes, however-and things looked grim indeed for all parties involved, even as the bloodied queen struggled to kick off the man sitting on her hips, to come to her brave but foolish daughter's aid.
 
"What foolishness is this?"

The man that accompanied the voice was just as fearsome.
Standing almost seven foot tall, his muscular body glistened from the sweat of battle, his long hair twisted and matted with blood and grime.
He strode passed his men pushing them aside.

"Rothgar...we were only taking our spoils."
The man that Ria had wounded spoke up boldly.

"You do not deserve spoils...you let a child mark you."
Rothgar looked at the man's wound.
"Have that seen to and you will be standing night guard for the next week."

The warrior did not protest by scampered off. All his men knew not to incur Rothgar's anger.

Rothgar walked passed the girl hardly even noticing her but aware enough should she have chosen to attack him.
With a flash his sword took the head of the man seated on Queen Ysolde clean off.
"My instructions were clear, respect your enemy till after tribute...and this Queen fought bravely and deserves not to be violated so brazenly."

He looked down at Ysolde, "still you have been conquered, so what tribute do you offer in return for your village not being sacked and your people slaughtered?"
 
His voice boomed into the meeting house, Ria forgetting her would be opponents as he filled the doorway, walked into their midst. He passed her, giving no notice-and Ria thought it wise to hide her stolen knife in her skirts, standing tall and still as he moved towards her mother-and took the would be rapist's head clean off.

Women gasped, Ria stood wide eyed and shocked-but Queen Ysolde rose to her knees, her eyes downcast, her chest heaving from exertion as she tried to calm herself, gathered her spirit so she could remain dignified as she did the unthinkable, the beheaded man lying beside her, his neck a growing pool of blood.

"Great Rothgar-" The Queen was a beautiful, proud woman, even while nearing her fortieth year. Her dark hair was braided into plaits down her back, her figure full and attractive within the white gown she wore. "I ask that you spare my people, and accept my humble offering. It is-"

"Her daughter." The interruption was bold and, given the expression of fear that crossed Ysolde's features-completely unexpected.

The girl he had passed had drawn herself up to her full height of five feet, four inches, her green dress accentuating her narrow waist, her petite build. Her dark hair was tumbled all about her shoulders, those dark eyes fierce and unyielding. She stood straight backed and full of fire, taking her mother's place with the slightest of defiant lifts to her chin-even though, were he paying attention, he would see her small, fisted hands tremble. "She offers her daughter as tribute, so that our people may continue to thrive under new rule." She finished, the crowd deathly silent.

The girl had spirit, standing up to him with tear tracks and soot smudged across her delicate, heart shaped face.

Ysolde's eyes shifted from her daughter's face to Rothgar's, praying he would reject such a tribute-just as she had been praying so terribly hard that we would accept it so that her people would not perish for her sins.

Her only daughter...
 
He did not need to ask if the girl truly was Ysolde's daughter, the look of dispair on the queen's face confirmed it.

He smiled, "and what would I want with such a slip of a girl?"
His eyes roamed over her.
She had the beauty of her mother but non of the proud strength yet.
"Though you are surely brave, you are too small to be of use with manual labor and I have no mate that requires a maiden to serve her."

He turned back to Ysolde, "and though your mother is passed the prime of her life, she perhaps has one more child in those hips and the full figure of womanhood to raise that child."
 
"Look again, dog." Ria answered, bristling. "I would work. I could carry whatever load the working women carry." She looked around at the wide eyes and fearful, still faces-and then she looked to her mother, who shook her head quickly and in futility-no.

But Ria couldn't do it. She couldn't let this brute take her away.

"For you would take my mother to be your whore, and rob my people of their wise leader. If I am left in charge, we will retreat, and we will plot, and we will become a nuisance on every road, in every wood-a thorn in your side." She answered, tearing her eyes from her mother's face and looking at him hard. "Or you take me to labor in your fields, a harmless, humbled person-and my mother remains to raise our people to be boons rather than enemies."

She would work her fingers to the bone if it meant her people were safe, her mother was where she belonged.
 
Rothgar scratched his chin at her boldness.
He looked the girl over again, looking to see if there was strength to match that boldness. Instead he saw the beauty of her mother, but still with the promise of maturing that age will bring. He noticed the heaving chest beneath the dress, the fullness of her hips and he smiled.

"Very well girl, you shall be my tribute...to spare my people your wrath in the future," he continued grinning.
He looked back at the girl, "go with Hilda and she will take you to be cleaned and clothed before you attend to me."
He looked back at Ysolde, and know that your courage will be rewarded. Your mother will be left to rule in my name, no more spoils will be taken and every woman who has been violated will receive a token of gold and food from the offender."

Looking back at Ria, his eyes gleamed, "is that a fair negotiation?"
 
"Is that a fair negotiation?"

Ria's eyes watched him, weighing what he said. Attending to him? She was to become -his- servant, not a woman in the fields. But her mother would keep her throne, and her people would be left alone. Good enough. Whatever he wanted, it was good enough.

"It'll do." She finally said, her eyes dropping to her mother-a weak, comforting smile to the woman who had raised her-before she turned to exit the meeting house with all the dignity she possessed.

What had she just done? Her mind reeled, but her heart held fast to the truth-she had saved her mother, that's what. She owed the Queen that much, didn't she? She looked for the woman the brute had mentioned, dizzied, her mouth dry-but resolved to do as she had said.
 
"Come child," Hilda said quietly as she led Ria off.
She was a pretty girl, a handful of years older than Ria perhaps.
"Sometimes Rothgar is gentle and he prepares you," she smiled reassuringly, "then it is not too painful and even pleasurable."

Ria was led to a large tent outside the village, none of the guards they passed troubled them and she was soon inside with the warmth the fire offered.
Hilda did not waste any time in helping her to remove her clothing.
"We must not delay, if he returns and you are not ready, we will both be punished."

After the clothing was removed and taken away, to be burned by another servant, Ria was offered a wet cloth to remove the mud from her body.
"Clean yourself, then you can bath," she indicated a large steaming tub.
"I do not know if he will wish you to be waiting for him in the tub or clothed," she indicated to a thin white dress that had been left by the other servant.
"You decide and I will delay him as long as I can so you can get cleaned...perhaps he will wish to satisfy his lust after battle first."
She closed a curtain separating the tab from where the entrance was and leaving Ria to her own thoughts.
 
It half felt like a dream, hearing such talk. Questions drifted to the tip of her tongue but she bit down on them, focused instead on the village, the home she was leaving. The tent was hardly given a glance she was so busy looking behind her-and then Hilda's fingers were in the laces of her clothing, Ria belatedly moving to help.

"There's a knife-" Ria murmured, half thinking to ask to keep it-but her dress, her favorite green dress-was being taken away somewhere, leaving the girl standing naked in the chill of night. She was pale, flawless-her breasts pink tipped and rosy, sparse dark curls protecting the v at the apex of her toned, pretty legs. The curve of her hips ended high and at the narrowest of waists, her stomach flat and soft. Hilda spoke quickly and kindly, and then she was gone-leaving Ria to stare at the cloth held clenched in her fist.

"So -I- am to become the whore." She spoke bitterly to herself, tears choking her. This was the -cost-! You pay it gladly!

She wiped at her eyes angrily, then her face, her hands-thinking to perhaps rub her skin -raw-, to be ugly for him. Such thoughts, however, were foolish-but she thought them anyway, spiteful. At least, her village would be spared. At least, her mother continued to sit on the throne proudly, neither enslaved nor banished.

Ria slipped into the tub, tensing at the heat-but it was soothing once she grew used to it, slipping beneath the surface and pretending, just for a moment-she might come up to find herself in the bath house of her mother's home.
...
Moments later her skin was dry, her hair left down (still slightly damp) and wild, the white dress clinging to her soft curves. She had not been provided a belt, or even much in way of undergarments-and she wondered, somewhere, if she were being trussed up as a sacrifice.
 
The sounds of voices from behind the curtain disturbed her thoughts.

"Did she resist?" Rothgar asked.

"No my lord," the quiet Hilda replied, "she did however have a knife concealed."

"Hmmm...Have it sharpened and put in a sheath on a belt for her."

"Will she not use it against you?" Hilda was horrified.

"No, she knows the only thing that stands between my men and her decimated village is me. If she were to kill me, then her village would suffer and her along with it."
He paused as if considering something.
"Besides her mother is honorable and I suspect that has rubbed off on her."
"Have these clothes burned, then come attend to me in the bath."

The curtain was pulled aside and Rothgar walked past Ria as if she wasn't there. He was naked and still dirty though most of the gore on his skin and hair has been washed out.
He placed his sword against a tent-pole and turned to look at Ria.
"You look older now that you are clean," he remarked while absently scratching the thatch of dark hair that his enormous phallus hung from.
"Are you still pure?"
 
Ria found herself listening, even though she knew she shouldn't. She was just as surprised as Hilda that he would arm her, but his logic was sound. And strangely-she felt a tinge of pride to be trusted, to be thought of as honorable like her mother.

Pride turned to slight fury when he ordered her favorite dress -burned-. Before she could part the curtain to protest he came through it-Ria's eyes widening comically, the girl frozen midstep-before she averted her eyes, face aflame as she turned to give him, give herself-give the man some privacy.

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth but when she spoke, it was surprisingly strong and without stutter. "This summer was my twentieth year." She answered, and even from behind he would see the petite lass draw herself to her full height, her shoulders straightening. "And that...was my favorite dress you've just sent to be burned." She said with a hint of ire, crossing her arms-before he asked her an embarrassing, shocking question, her head turning slightly, that flamed blush spreading across her fair face. "I have not married, sir."

Before she turned to stare straight ahead uncomfortably. She didn't look, she hadn't dared to look-but the glimpse was frightful enough.
 
He laughed loudly, then his voice boomed out.
"Hilda!"
He continue to watch the girl, to see if her eyes drifted down. The excitement of the battle one and the anticipation of a virgin slave caused his loins to stir slightly, and his member to harden.

The servant's return, disturbed their game.
"Yes my lord?"

Rothgar never took his eyes off Ria.
"The girl has spirit...perhaps too much, but yet she pleases me with it."
He stepped closer to Ria, a smirk on his face.
"If she can show she is not afraid of me, then you will have her dress cleaned and returned to her."
He smiled down at Ria, "in fact you will return with her to her household before we leave in the morning and allow her to take a few items to remember her home by."
He reached out, his big hand touching her cheek, "but only if she shows she does not fear me."
 
Ria turned her head to stare straight ahead once more when he shouted to Hilda, refusing to play such a game. His shadow loomed, however, and his words surprised her-and so she pivoted, eyes high to remain on his face, that defiant lift to her chin.

She wasn't sure how to take this...this kindness. She would be able to tell her mother goodbye properly, beg the queen's forgiveness. Conflict was present in her face, battling gratitude.

His roughened hand reached for her and Ria remained still, her skin soft. "I fear no man." She told him stubbornly, lying, but...

"...and I thank you." She said even MORE stubbornly, the reluctant gratitude voiced.
 
"Only if she shows she does not fear me."
He smiled at her as his hand slid down her cheek and over her neck.
His touch was surprisingly gentle for such a big man, but the look in his eye was menacing.
His hand brushed over her chest and rested on her breast, cupping the flesh firmly through the thin top.
Rothgar breathed steadily as he watched for her reaction, his manhood stirring at his thoughts of
her."
Out the corner of her eye, Ria could make out Hilda, a pleading look in her eye.
 
Ria's breathing became a tad erratic, and it seemed to take considerable effort to remain where she was. "And what would you have me do?" She asked him, her delicate throat revealing a swallow-Hilda's pleading expression worrying her.

She did not wish to get them both punished, after all-!

Rothgar cupped the curve of her breasts and Ria shifted, eyes snapping back to his face, her blush worsening. There was fire in her dark eyes, her question standing.
 
"Show you are not afraid of my body."
He squeezed her breast.
Her reddening face making him smile.
Slowly his thumb began to circle around her nipple, gently at first then rubbing harder across it through the fabric of her shift.
 
Ria's face burned, both in embarrassment to have a naked -man- touch her-and in her humiliation that Hilda was watching, could see she didn't know what to do, how to react.

She couldn't stand it, her small hand lifting to slap his groping hand away-and then remembering herself.

Her shame knew no limits. "You wish me to look at you?" Slowly, forced her gaze lower, and lower-the expanse of his chest, the massive size of him-his abed stomach, the scars-lower, lower-

Ria made a small choking sound, eyes flying up to his in a panic. Whore or not, she would never take that and survive. "Do you mean to kill me?" And now her voice betrayed a tremble, the honest question showing just how little she knew.
 
"Kill you! ... No ..."
He grinned as his hand fondled her a bit rougher.
"Hilda...you can do as I asked...the princess has earned it."

The servant nodded and left to attend to Rothgar's wishes.

"Perhaps I will make you my queen."
He moved his hand and slipped it inside her top so he could cup her breast flesh to flesh.
"Would you like that?"
His thumb twisting her nipple in circular motions.
"Would you like such an impressive man as your mate?"
 
"You mock me." Ria whispered, her raised hand curling into a slight fist as he slipped into her shirt, his rough skin against so sensitive a place making her shiver involuntarily-a squirm before she brazenly grasped his wrist, pulled away from him.

"The water will be cold." She said quickly in an attempt to cover up her boldness, averting her eyes. "I-I will wash your back..." And if he allowed she moved to take one of the clean cloths stacked in the corner of the tent, her hands trembling.

She had signed up for this, she reminded herself. It was for a good cause.
 
"Do I really mock you?"
He watched her as she retrieved the cloth.
"You have shown more spirit than anyone before," he grinned, "ask Hilda what she did to keep me happy the first time we met."
He walked over to her.
"But there is a point where your spirit will become annoying."
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her towards him.
Their bodies touched and his manhood poked hard into he stomach.
Bending down he kissed her roughly, his tongue trying to invade her mouth.
 
Dark eyes flashed back at him uncertainly. She did not wish to ask Hilda any such thing. Bad enough he would speak of his conquests to her, what would he say about the queen's "spirited" daughter?

His shadow dwarfed her-and then he had turned her around, pressed himself into her-the hardness of his muscles, of -him- as he trapped her between himself and the wooden dresser behind her-before she could dare whisper anything smart his mouth was on hers, demanding her attention as he invaded her soft, warm mouth with his tongue.

She made a surprised noise as she resisted, one of her delicate hands flat against his chest, the other on the dresser behind her, as if she might climb upon it to get away from him-she was so small compared to him, and strangely-his nakedness felt even more -wicked- against her clothed body as she lost the battle to keep him out of her mouth, his tongue invasive, -strange- as her breasts lifted with her sharp inhale through her nose.
 
He continued to kiss her roughly as his body ground against hers, her protesting hand nothing but a flimsy barrier against his chest. His hard manhood now fully erect lay against her belly.
Finally he pulled away from her grinned.
"Now let us see if you have learned your lesson."
Again he thrust his hand inside her top, almost tearing it away. His fingers and palm rougher then before as he kneaded and pinched her breast.
 
He...his sword was -harder- against her flat belly, uncomfortably so-and when he pulled away, she squirmed, her dark eyes alarmed.

She jerked but didn't have anywhere to go, her firm bottom against the dresser, the top of which pressed into her back-her lips were a little puffed from his kiss, her blush having returned full force-one he might be amused to discover extended to her soft chest.

Which he currently manhandled, his prize pressing back into the dresser so hard it might have been assumed she was trying to melt into it. "Please-" She gasped as he pinched the soft skin, looking confused, more than a little mortified to be touched. "I have, I have!" What that lesson was, she wasn't sure-that she was to be touched whenever and however he liked?
 
"Goooood." He drew it out, as much in lust as to emphasize the point.
He gave he nipple one last twist before releasing it.
He stepped back a few paces.
"I am sorry...did that hurt?"
"And don't look me in the eye when you answer truthfully," he added, knowing that is she look down she would see his angry erection eager for satisfaction.
 
Ria's hands gripped the collar of her dress, pressing it flat to her skin as her pawed breast ached. He mocked her again, she thought-and so she stayed silent, biting her tongue when he added what he did-her gaze dipping, for just a moment, to him.

She swallowed, looking away. "No." She answered sulkily, edging to her left to be away from the dresser, to perhaps slip around him. Once more, she attempted to remind him of the bath, perhaps distract him.

"Will you bathe? The...the heat would aide your sore...um." She wished she could disappear, trying to inconspicuously soothe her breast by crossing her arms over them. "Muscles." Eyes back to his eyes. That, and then she wouldn't have to be so fretful, him waltzing around in his bare skin.
 
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