Scandalous Liaisons (Closed)

[SassyWench]

Deep within the castle walls, Lainey is being dressed for her wedding. Most would think that she would be happy and overjoyed on her wedding day. Quite the opposite. Her marriage has been arranged by her father and a Baron up the way. Her family had the money, his had the title. Marriages for political reasons or social placing were something that Lainey simply didn't believe in. However, she would never voice that outloud or she'd be beaten.

Standing before a full length mirror, Lainey Richelle Rigby looks like a vision of innocent beauty. Her hair of chestnut has been swept up off her neck, her slender figure accentuated by the formal wedding gown that had been worn by her mother (God rest her soul) almost thirty five years ago.

"Lainey. You're a vision of beauty. Turn, let me see you." Her father commands. Normally her father is cold and distant; even harsh. Today was different. His family and lands would soon have the wealth that comes with this union and that was all he cared about. The servants quickly vacate and close the doors behind them as the Lord Rigby had entered.

Lainey turns, her veil covers her face; as was the custom. Her soon to be husband would not know what she looks like until after the ceremony and festivities when he takes her to the bedchambers to consumate their marriage. That thought scares her almost as much as this whole fiasco of a marriage about to take place. No longer. She cannot hold her tongue any longer.

"Father, please! I do not wish to marry someone I do not love! I'm begging you!"

"Lainey, I cannot stress upon you how important this is. You will do as your husband commands, obey his every word!" His tongue is sharp, his hand lifts as if to strike her for speaking out as she has. Lainey cowers back, bumping into the mirror. So, one good thing might come from all of this; atleast she'd be away from her abusive father.

Holding his stern gaze upon her quivering form for a moment or so, more or less to show her he meant it, his hand slowly lowers once again.

Without a word, he walks over and grasps her firmly near the elbow, then escorts her to the awaiting carriage that will take them to the church.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

“You fight like a girl…” intoned Fraomar.

“And you don’t fight at all, leofe broðor min …” laughed Ceawlin, son of Edwy, vassal to King Ælle.

The wintry woods were quiet except for the clangs of swords upon shields, and swords on swords. Their breaths were heavy in the cold air, with sweat glistening down their chiseled bodies. They were both stripped down to their waist, a show to nature that they can endure whatever cold that came their way. A rather stupid way of showing off, but then again, intelligence was never the strong suit of both men. And they were men, by all means, both having just passed their thirtieth seasons.

Today was Ceawlin’s wedding. Although he tried not to think about it, the prospect of losing his freedom was daunting to him to say the least. Which was why his best friend, the only one whom he had considered a brother, Fraomar, took him out into the woods for a mock fight. A battle between men, a test of skills with blunted swords and heavy shields, and a no small amount of warm beer.

“Hey, Fraomar. Do you remember Nelda, the milkmaid?”

“Yeah, what about her?” Fraomar dropped to one knee when a huge blow connected solidly with his shield, but he recovered enough to slash at the legs of Ceawlin.

Ceawlin jumped out of the way in time, accompanied by his reply, “Well, I met Nelda the other day, and she mentioned you. I saw you two together in that barn a week ago. You and her going about it like a bull in the pen of cows. Hahahaha…”

They were now circling each other warily, with the swords well extended at each other. “What else did she say?”

“Hmmm… She said that you have a rather small equipment for big man. HAHAHA!…”

“Why you…!!”

“Woohoo!!…”

Ceawlin jumped gleefully around, letting the trees and branches get in the way of Fraomar and his anger at the mockery. The two friends finished off the morning with some cheese, bread, and a lots of warm beer. Beer being the staple which to warm the body during the long, cold and dreary winter. To top it all off, they took their annual bath in the icy cold waters of the river, shriveling some parts of their anatomy, but boosting their courage and natural stupidity.

The whole village was prepared for wedding. Festive buntings were everywhere, gaudily so, making the village look like a fair. Baron Edwy’s castle overlooked the village, but from up close, the “castle” was actually a fortified house, being the Baron was not a man of affluent means. The lands thereabout could not possibly support the kind of lavish lifestyles that Baron, and definitely his son, would have preferred and wished.

King Ælle was a fair man, but harsh in his dealings with his vassals. The dreadfully burdensome tithes, and the frequent levies of troops did stretch the Barony to its limits. But all in all, the barony was a rather safe and peaceful place, along with the infrequent wild boar attacks to break the monotony. The harvests were in, and Midwinter’s celebrations were just over. Christmas was another dull and boring affair, although the abbot was fairly ecumenical in his sermon against the excess of man. Ceawlin was forced to sit in the front with his father, so there was no way that he could fall asleep without being obvious.

So the time had finally arrived for his big moment.

“Have you taken your bath? I see that you didn’t shave too closely…”

“Yes, father. I’ve taken my bath, and the water was too cold for a closer shave. Besides I like to have a bit of stubble on my chin. It’s too cold outside not to be having a beard…”

Scuffing his shiny boots on the hard packed earth, Ceawlin bit his lower lip, chaffing at the speed of which the ceremony was progressing. He had wished that he had seen what Lady Lainey Rigby looked like before today, but that was the way of an arranged marriage. He had dreamt horrors of what she would look like, but now it was too late to mull over that.

His best friend, Fraomar, was on a horse waiting at the edge of the Barony, waiting to lead the wedding carriage in. Everyone had their best clothes on, which meant that it was at least clean. It would not do for the well-being of the villagers to embarrass the Baron.

 

[SassyWench]

"You will look at me as I speak to you, child!" Lord Rigby's harsh voice was kept to a loud whisper at least. Though he would not see her face under the veil, she turns her head to make it appear that she was looking at him. In reality, she was watching the countryside pass by from the small curtained window with tears brimming her eyes. It takes all of her will to keep those tears from spilling freely onto her cheeks, too. Never could she let her father know she was crying!

"Good. You remember why it is that you are doing this young lady; and don't you dare bring a bad reputation to his name or the title about to be given to you. Your whore of a mother did that to us and look where its gotten you."

His last words stung her heart, causing her to visibly wince. She knew the truth long ago. Her mother was not a whore! If he had been good to her mother, perhaps she wouldn't have run out into the path of an oncoming carriage while trying to flee his hands that abused her.

She was about to snap a retort in defense of her mother to him when the driver of the carriage announces that their escort was up ahead.

Fraomar, was on a horse waiting at the edge of the Barony, waiting to lead the wedding carriage in. Upon seeing the horses, he gives a whistle to which the driver lifts his hand to signify he's been seen.

Soon, Fraomar is leading the carriage through the streets and up to the church.

"Come, Lainey. It's time." Lord Rigby orders of his daughter as he helps her from the carriage and into the side entrance of the church. Once everyone was in position, the cermony began.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

It was hard not to yawn in from of Abbot Halig’s face. He droned on and on about the sacred institution of marriage, and about children bearing and rearing. Way too much on the subject of children, thought Ceawlin. He wished he could just punch the Abbot’s face, and then grab Lady Lainey and rushed up to their bedchamber to practice on what the good Abbot preached. But a swift glance at his father spoke volumes about the consequences of such an action. So he was resigned to stand through the overly long ceremony.

And if he had thought that the ceremony was long, he could not have imagined the length of the celebrations when the ceremony ended. Everyone wanted to toast to his good fortune. Fraomar started it of course, and even his father joined in. Once that was out of the way, every villager who could drink presented his own toast. The good Abbot was the final one, still preaching about the subject of creating a heir for the Baron. Ceawlin thought he was the heir, but then he understood that the abbot was talking about Ceawlin’s own heir. The beer was quite weak, as it always had been. But too much of can make it just as strong, and Ceawlin had too much.

And the night had just started. A party without everyone falling on their faces drunk as Lords was not called a party. Luckily, unbeknownst to all, including Fraomar, Ceawlin had earlier watered down his own personal beer keg, up to the point where it was more water than beer. This was helped in turn by his good acting, as he quite remembered the many times that he was roaring drunk. Nevertheless, this made him go outside to “water” the plants way too many times. So many that some of the villagers were looking at him with peculiar glances.

Still he shrugged off those glances, as the time for his bride and him to consummate the marriage had arrived. This was the moment that he was waiting for the whole day. The moment when he lifts up the veil, and see if his nightmares were true. He held out his hand to Lady Lainey, and then feeling for the first time, her smooth dainty fingers on his rough palms. For some reason unknown to him, this light touch brought a warm sensation across his body. Things might not be as bad as they seemed at first, he thought, as their steps creaked the wooden stairs that lead to the bridal bedchamber. The steps that would lead to discovery and perhaps, some other things as well…

 

[SassyWench]

The tears that had been kept at bay in the carriage flowed freely down her cheeks during the long, drawn out ceremony. Oh how she wished she could lift her skirts and run as swiftly as possible from here and never return! What was she doing!? Here she was, about to marry a man she just met. Scratch that. Has yet to meet! They hadn't even been introduced to each other. Just dragged into this magnificent church and married!

She was quiet all night at the feast. She's never had a drink before and she wasn't about to begin now. Besides, her veil cannot be removed by anyone other than her new husband. Speaking of which... where is he anyways?

She had been looking to one of the entrances when he came over to her and offered his hand. This was it. This was the moment when they'd bid farewells to their guests and he'd take her upstairs. Literally, take her. Because she would never shame or embarass the man in public, she sets her dainty hand into his and curtsies gently to him, "M'lord." she whispers.

Soon, he's taken her up the stairs and into the bedchambers. The moment of truth is about to be unveiled. He hasn't said a word to her at all, nor has she to him other than the one spoken downstairs.

If he was paying attention to her at all, he'd see she is trembling like a leaf in a hurricane's gail force winds when he brings his hands to the hem of the veil and lifts it, easing it back over her head.

She looks so scared; so alone and shy. Her face is lovely, high cheekbones, deep dark eyes the color of rare emeralds adorned with golden flecks that sparkle in the flickering candlelight in the room. A kissable neck, perfect for sucking on, running his hands over and more blends smoothly with the swell of her well-rounded breasts; deep cleavage set off by the corset that hugs her body tightly.

Lips that have been dusted with a faint dusty rose color part gently as if she were about to speak, but nothing comes out of her mouth. Too scared to talk? Perhaps. Then again, maybe she needs to test her limits with this man, you know? Learn where her boundaries are and all that.

As he gazes upon her with much scrutiny, she can't help but to notice that he really is quite handsome; stoic in nature. Things could have been worse. He could have looked like the village idiot and been just as dumb too. Ok, so she can't complain.. yet.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

He blinked not once or twice, but a few times. She was so unexpectedly beautiful that he swelled up with pride, as well as a certain part of his anatomy. His hands were trembling, although rather imperceptibly, when he lifted up the veil. There were more to be unveiled, but for this moment, he was content. It surprised him to be so, as the other village girls that he had romped with were differently “handled”.

She looked so dainty, and eminently fragile, that he was afraid that he might break her. Her rosy cheeks, the full lips, and the smooth neck. Oh, the smooth neck that beckoned his lips like the sun calling to the sunflower. He crossed the intervening space and sat down on the bed beside her, unsure of what to say, or even to say anything at all. And of course, of what to do. This was so unlike him.

The silence was more ominous, as he had locked all the drunken bawdry downstairs. The room was warm, much warmer that he had imagined. This was not the time to be hesitating, but his hesitation seemed quite in place. Again, this was so unlike him, but he hardly cared at all. And the warmth and silence were finally broken when he loosened the string that tied his shirt up.

The sun finally won over the sunflower, as the he moved close and kissed, very lightly, on her neck, just below her ear. The smell of flowers from her hair was making him giddy. And another soft kiss at the same place. And another…

“Lady Lainey, I… uh…” whispered in her ear, just as a soft kiss touched her earlobe, and the smell from her hair got stronger.

“Lady Lainey… we must…” For the first time in his life, Ceawlin was at a lost for words on what he should do, and say. The marriage was supposed to be one of convenience. Prestige to her parents, and much need monies for his. A rather good arrangement for both families to prosper. At least that was the reason his father kept pounding into him, sometimes with a walking cudgel. The guests and his father downstairs must be shown proof of his union with his new wife…

But he was a gentlemen, even though he knew it not yet…

And the kisses grew in more frequency. His hand now laid innocently on her knee, feeling her skin through her skirt. Growing ever bolder, he laid a soft peck at the edge of her lips, no wanting to break the magical moment. Somehow, he did not want to “take” her like he was supposed to. Down to her strong jaw line his lips went, down again to her neck and the smell from her hair…

“What… am… I… supposed… to… do…?”

 

[SassyWench]

Atleast he hasn't just taken you and thrown you upon the bed and stripped you of your clothes..

That's one thought that went through her head as she still trembled before her new husband; a man whose name she just heard for the first time during the ceremony.


Ceawlin

Has a rather nice sound to it; atleast in her head it does. The way he looks at her sends a chill up her spine as a deep rooted, tingling warmth stirs in her loins. This causes her to swallow, her eyes widen gently; wondering just what was happening to her.

Oh no!, she thinks as her body draws back a little when he leans in close. She didn't lean back too far, though, because his velvety soft lips brushed against the tender skin of her neck anyways.

Her chest sinks deeply as a quick breath is expelled through her button nose, her skin warms with his kiss. Oh God, what do I do? Lainey frets as she feels his kisses continue along her neck then her earlobe. Here it comes... She's positive this is the part where he forces her to lay back on the bed, rips her gown from her body and proceeds to ravish her as he pleases.

And why wouldn't he? He is the man and in this day and age the men always got what they wanted; even if it had to be taken.

But he hasn't done that. This truly surprises the young bride and it shows as she looks to him. Lady Lainey was well aware of the fact that he would have to bring proof downstairs that their marriage has been consumated and that she was in fact a virgin.

His kisses become more insistent, more frequent, making her heart race faster and faster within her chest. She could hear its incessant pounding in her ears and she feared that he could hear it as well. The warmth of his breath was a sharp contrast to the gentle wetness left in the wake of his kisses. Her shoulders shudder as a wonderful chill flows slowly down the side of her neck.

When his hand comes to a rest against her knee, her emerald eyes shift to look at it. She was certain that hand would begin pulling her skirt up until he could touch her secret garden. Yet, he didn't do that. Slowly, she looks to the handsome man seated beside her on the very bed that her innocence would be lost in.. to him.

Soft, full lips return a kiss to him as he dares to kiss the corner of her mouth; her kiss was so light it may have felt like a playful tickle from a peacock's feather.

"I .. I do not know, M'lord." She whispers back to him. And she really didn't know what he was suppose to do next. She had been told that she must obey his commands, allow him to take what pleasures he wanted from her and be the perfect wife. Heeding her station, her chin lifts gently as he once again begins kissing down her chin.

From out of the blue, as her eyes close, she murmurs a few lines from a play she had seen once. It was quite a treat to be able to join the adults of the household on their visit to theater. Only, she had uttered these words so quietly, he doesn't hear her.

Realizing what she had just said shocks her; causing her eyes to shoot open wide while she scurries back away from him across the bed until her retreat is halted by the large, wooden headboard.

Quickly, she lowers her gaze when seeing the look on his face.

"I'm .. sorry .. M'lord. I beg thy forgiveness."

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

“I'm .. sorry .. M'lord. I beg thy forgiveness.”

“Ummm… There is nothing to forgive. In fact, I should be the one who begs forgiveness, M’Lady. You’re not what I’d expected…”

He moved up the bed, having one arm over to her side, and from afar, it looked like he was preventing escape. Nevertheless, that did not even cross his mind. He just wanted to prop himself up to look into her eyes, and to offer a better position to kiss those red lips that were so inviting.

“I beg forgiveness from M’Lady, if I had seemed uncouth and savage…”

With that, he never finished his sentence as her lips won over his mind, and he drew himself in for a long deep kiss. Her breath was fresh, and the lips soft. His hard chest, now heavy with his breaths, heaved against her soft bosoms, feeling her breaths and heart as well. Her heart was now pounding against his chest, as his was against hers. It was such new and strange experience for him to be in such a state. Maybe it was because she was now “legally” his. But perhaps, it was something else.

He grew bolder, and flicked his tongue into his mouth. The village midwife had taught him that, as she did for the other things as well. He could feel her smooth teeth on the tips of his tongue. The teeth had not parted, just yet, to allow him access to her own tongue. But he did not mind that at all. Some things needed to be taught, and apparently, she had not been taught.
He was very aroused at this point. Quite painfully so, as his leather breeches were getting so uncomfortable. He now knew that he wanted her, as a man wanted his wife, not as a man who wanted an afternoon romp in the hay barn. He knew that he must be gentle and slow. The thoughts of giving the “audience” down below proof of his virility and of her virginity soon disappeared entirely from his mind. There was such a lovely feeling in this right now, that the rest of the world did not matter.

He broke off the kiss to again look deep into her eyes. There was a slight challenge, and yet there was more, of something else that he could not quite put his finger on. His uncouthness and savagery came into play when he ripped off his shirt and breeches. The shiny boots lay forgotten at the foot of the bed as he slowly untied the strings of her blouse to reveal the milky white breasts. His heart was pounding by the minute, pumping blood to a certain part of his anatomy…

Just as his eyes looked briefly at her breasts, he took them back up to her eyes, and locked his lips to hers again.

“Let me make love to you, M’Lady. Help me, as I’m afraid that I may be to violent…” as he continued to touch and feel her smooth arms, while going back to his fascination with her lips.

 

[SassyWench]

His words move her, making her look up to him as he leans over her. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't get past him to get off the bed.

"I.. I'm a bit frightened, M'lord. I know what tis expected of me, but I'm still afraid, " Lainey tells him quietly.

He certainly isn't like her father who is cold, mean and distant. Not too mention a selfish, greedy womanizer.

He cuts off his own words with a fevered kiss pressed firmly to her lips. Lainey inhales a quick breath, forcing her breasts out towards him; the force of the kiss keeps her pinned against the headboard.

"Mmm" she whimpers, brows knitted deeply. As the hard, passionate kiss ensued, she finally parts her teeth to allow the tip of her tongue to dance with his.

The way he's handling her arouses the young Lady even further, their hearts beating in unison.

"Ahh..' she exhales when he breaks that kiss just as suddenly; the tips of her fingers come to rest against her tingling lower lip. Emerald eyes go wide as he hurriedly strips off his clothes; then stray lower and focus on his very prominent member.

He's well endowed.. That's what she had been told by the milkmaid during the reception when she had been paraded around like prized cattle by her father.

A deep pink blush colors her delicate and fair features, those eyes are quickly cast aside. "M'lord.." she begins, then ends abruptly. Just what would she say?

A tug at the strings of her gowns blouse makes her look back up to him; her heart racing as fast as is humanly possible before inducing a heart attack. Soon, those volumnous mounds are sprung free from their gilded cage, his strong hands rubbing her arms, then his plea.

Her own eyes soften and she finds herself beginning to nod, then shakes her head once.

"I.. " Her hand had pulled the blouse up over her breasts, though only enough to cover her nipples that were standing erect.

"Please? Do not hurt me, please.." She begs of him in a whisper, slowly sinking against the headboard.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

“…Do not hurt me, please…”

She might have been a milkmaid instead of a Lady, and yet he would not have hurt her, not a woman. He might have been rough, being a man and all, but hurting a woman was another matter altogether. That would make him worse than an animal, and there were many opportunities to let himself go and become that animal, letting his animalistic instincts take over. But that has not happened, yet…

She was afraid, as he was, that much he could tell, but the heat of the moment was getting to him. He knew his passion was at full “attention” by now, and he hardly noticed her or his embarrassment, not that he was not embarrassed under different circumstances.

He took her hands from her breasts, those that were hiding the dark erect nipples from his hungry eyes. With her hands out of the way, it was easier to remove the rest of her clothes. The candles in the room was bright, but it did added to the mood of the moment, the first instance when he laid his eyes on her milky white smooth skin. And the dark triangle of her clasped thighs, the place to the entrance of her Secret Garden.

He leaned forward to kiss her again. Only this time, it was longer and more sensuously. The barrier of the teeth was not there this time. So the battle begins, starting with the tongue. Was he such a barbarian, that he would consider this a battle? He refrained himself from such thoughts, driving himself to be more like the civilized Romans, even though the End of Empire was at hand.

He snaked one arm underneath her head and pulled her to her side to face him. For an unknown reason, this was a more intimate and comfortable position for him. The other hand, however, had a life of its own, roaming at will throughout her body. Sometimes just feeling the smoothness of her thighs and legs, one of which is propped over his. Sometimes, feeling the breasts, their silkiness and softness to his touches. And sometimes, tweaking gently the dark nipples, now jutting out proudly, as if in challenge for him to touch. They rubbed so wonderfully against his hairy chest. He had not thought it to be so wonderful before, but somehow this time was different.

His manhood, was painfully erect. The moist Turtle Head, was knocking at the Gates of her Secret Garden. The dew, now beginning to flow freely from her Secret Garden was beckoning him, much like the humming bird is drawn to the sweet flower in the Garden…

 

[SassyWench]

Her hands removed from her breasts, she watches her new husband strip her of her clothes. The room was quite warm, but gooseflesh still breaks out over her arms, causing the tiny hairs to rise on end.

There is no sense in refusing him of his kiss, thus her lips part gently, allowing his tongue refuge within the warm sanctuary of her mouth. The kiss in return begins, he could tell he was the first man to have ever kissed her but soon through his quiet guidance their tongues are intertwined passionately.

A quick breath is released as his hand against the back of her head pulls her onto her side, her body pressed firmly to his while his other hand roams freely. Her skin instantly warms with his caress and soon her own hand is beginning to risk a touch of his bare skin when her fingertips brush across his shoulder.

Unsure just what to do with the leg that is above, she drapes it over his thigh. Slender brows are knitted deeply as the kiss becomes more insistant with the passion that seems to be bordering on dire need.

Scared.

Was she scared of what was about to happen, or was she more afraid of the way her body reacts so freely to his desires? Lainey thinks that is what scares her the most. The way he has begun taking her is truly erotic, sparking sensations and feelings she's never felt before.

Her palm is placed against his chest, her fingertips trickle along his rippled chest with a feather-light touch.

"Mmm" she exhales, feeling a wetness against her loins. Was it hers? Yes. Only it was beginning to mix with his. The scent of sex hangs in the air, their bodies giving themselves away.

"Mmmm noo!" She breaks the kiss forceably, her lips burning with desire as she pushes back against his chest; however his arm beneath her keeps her from moving too far from him.

She looks to him, closing her eyes for a moment; she has to collect her thoughts.

"I..."

What can she say? She just told her husband no, there wasn't much else she could say.

"I'm a little afraid, M'lord." She tells him honestly, hoping he understands her fears.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

What was wrong with her? Her fears were beyond his comprehension at the moment. When he had time later on to reflect on it, it would have been that she was truly a virgin, and that tonight, was the first time that she had ever kissed a man before, let alone being touched so intimately by one.

More importantly, what was wrong with him? He could take her like he had taken many other virgins before. He could take her like the time when the village mid-wife had taken him first. So why should this virgin be different? What was wrong with him? A man who had suddenly lost his direction in sex? He would be the laughing stock of the barony, if not the entire kingdom, if word of this ever got out…

What was wrong with him?

“M’Lady. I’m sorry if I appear brutal to you. That’s not my intention. Not my intention to hurt you in anyway… I… I…”

Now the truth was out. He had said it aloud what his mind and heart was thinking. He did not want to take her like a village wench. He definitely did not want to hurt her in anyway. It was a strange feeling for sure, one that he had never felt before. Perhaps it was her innocence that commanded his stay of hand. Perhaps it was her surrender in her kiss. Perhaps it was her hands caressing his chest, so intimate for one who had never touched a man before so intimately. Perhaps it was the smell of her hair that was reeling his senses. Perhaps it was something else, something not physical.

“I will go slow, Lainey…” saying her name for the first time, without any fear of impropriety. He was twitching violently now, against the lips of her Secret Garden, against the mingling of their moisture, and yet he did not press his “advantage”.

“Somehow, I’m afraid as well…” His words echoing his heart, as he pressed again his kiss, this time more gently than ever. And somehow, his own passion had a life of it own. The Turtle Head gentle presses against the Gates of the Secret Garden, knocking at the Gates, but not yet entering, without permission.

“Somehow, I want to do this, and I’ll be gentle. If, and only if, you truly want me to, Lainey… I’ll not take you if you do not desire it… If you don’t want me to…”

What was wrong with him?

 

[SassyWench]

“Somehow, I want to do this, and I’ll be gentle. If, and only if, you truly want me to, Lainey… I’ll not take you if you do not desire it… If you don’t want me to…”

"But if you don't..."

There is no need for her to finish the sentence. They both know what will happen if their marriage is not consumated on their wedding night. She'll be beaten by her father for losing the prestige that came to his name, his father would be irate at losing the monies he gained from the union. In short, there will be hell to pay and she - and he - will both pay the price.

"I've ne'er ..." Emerald eyes brim with tears of embarassment. Here he was, her husband now, and he had far more experience than she did. She must look like a fool in his eyes. Lainey doesn't allow those tears to fall, instead she blinks them back from whence they came; long, dark lashes brushing over her high cheekbones as if they were soft butterfly wings kissing her skin.

"I've ne'er done any of this b'fore, Ce..." she pauses with his name on her lips, pursing them as she debates on whether or not to bypass formality or to keep with it. On the one hand, if she speaks his name she's giving him subtle permission; is she ready for this? On the other, if she keeps to formality, it could lead to much worse than a few moments of pain with the loss of her innocence.

Such decisions! Emerald eyes never stray from his as she weighs the two sides against each other.

"Ceawlin". There. She's said his name without using his proper title. Lainey couldn't read the look in his eyes too well. Mayhaps he understands what she just did, what she is about to give up so he can save face with those downstairs. Then again, it could be the devil inside, letting himself be known that he was about to get what he so greatly desired at this very moment.

Still, Lainey trembles in his arms; strong arms that hold her snug against his body as he is poised and ready to explore the secret gardens. Would the fruits be sown this evening? She hopes not. When the fruit of their loins produce an heir, she wants him to be conceived with love and from love. This wasn't the night. She still needs to get to her new husband, his likes and dislikes; views and wanton desires.

Her lithe body relaxes in his arms, her head dips back gently to rest upon the feather-pillow. It's when he brushes his lips against hers ever so lightly that one of those tears rolls down her cheek, to drop onto the pillow beneath her head, leaving its calling with a circular wet patch.

Quivering thighs part slowly for the man nestled between her legs when she feels him pressing against her body, almost pleading to be let in. Her lips, soft as the summer skies, return his gentle kisses; slowly, as she tries to still her shaking nerves.

This is it, Lainey. Tonight, with this final act, you are no longer under the care of an abusive father. You are in the care of a total stranger whom is your husband. Do what you can to make him happy and you'll have a wonderful life...

These are her last thoughts as she closes her eyes and allows herself to fall deeper within his embrace.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

The dereliction of duty. Duty. Yes, she did not have to finish her sentence. He knew only too well, the consequences of his dereliction of his “sacred” duty. Duty to his noble name. Duty to the Barony, and ultimately the King. And of course, never forgetting, his Duty to his father. The one man in this world that he was truly afraid of. But yet, what is it about all these duties that he had to accomplish?

In his heart, he thought not of the those duties, only him mind did. His heart was fluttering over something else. Something beyond the Duties that he had been so eagerly performing until now. Something which he cannot comprehend with his limited faculties. And yet, he understood well enough, the Sacrifice that she made when…

“…Ceawlin…” she said his name out loud, without the burdensome titles or any connotations that came with his noble title. She said it like he was a man. Her man. He had hoped that she would say it as her husband, but they had the time to mull over this tiny matter of the sacred institution of marriage.

For now, her surrender, was not a surrender per se. It was an opportunity for a future. The day had seemed bright so far, and for tomorrow, it will be brighter still. They had many, many more tomorrows.

There was no more gaps. No more intervening spaces that held a man and woman apart. They were beginning to be as one entity. She had “surrendered” herself to him so completely that he was afraid that even his lightest touch would hurt her, in ways that he could not imagine.

He pressed the purplish Head pass the Petals, the sweet dewy Petals, that will lead the way into her Secret Garden. The larger Head, was drowned, clasped so tightly that he himself was beginning to feel apprehensive about his promise to her that he would not hurt her. He slowed his advance, almost to very tiny, almost imperceptible movements. The feeling of it could not be described, at least could not be described to do the feeling sufficient justice.

Then he met the Barrier of her womanhood . The one Barrier that his right, and his alone, to break through. The subjugation of that Barrier that will proclaim him as her husband. His sacred property and right to own. The subjugation of which will lead him to the well-spring of his heirs, thus fulfilling his duty as her husband. There again, the word duty. His duty as a husband was her subjugation? Or was it something else entirely?

The Barrier broke when he inadvertently twitched hard, initially caused by the involuntary beating of his heart, his passion that coursed throughout his body, and that specific single place where his passion would flow from. From this point on, his passion, and hers as well, would have reach a satisfactory conclusion, for tonight anyway.

His movement, emboldened by the crumble of the Barrier, quickened with his raced pulse. The force of it still remained light, no doubt aided by their totally combined moisture…

 

[SassyWench]

A long moment of silence passes between the newly married couple as they look into each other's eyes. She finds it hard to read his emotions. Is he lulling over the unfinished sentence just as she is? Was he reconsidering or weighing the actions they were about to take more carefully? Perhaps the ramifications of this sacred act just don't matter to him. She can't tell and she isn't about to risk asking him now.

The look of fear deepens on her delicate face as she feels Ceawlin begin to take her as his wife in the sanctity of their marriage. Long, slender fingers curl around his biceps tighter now and her heart is pounding furiously in her chest. She anticipates the pain that is about to come, however he takes his time and does his best to make it as painless as possible for her.

In one fleeting moment, a thousand thoughts rush through her mind; such as the fact that other men would not be so kind. They'd have just thrown the woman down anywhere in the room, ripped off her clothing only to take her--by force most of the time in arranged marriages. Others might have been to afraid to admit to those who demanded the proof of the woman's purity, so they'd find a way to make something up and cheat their way through it. Still, there were those men who would have not only taken their new bride, but then they'd return to the festivities and take a wench or two that night as well.

Tears well up in her emerald eyes as she forces a hard swallow down her throat. Her fingers have now moved from a firm grasp to a full blown tight clench as he proceeds to guide himself further down the path to the secret garden; where the fountain of pleasure lies.

The moment he breaks through the gates, she draws in a hissed breath; arching her back deeply which would send her bare breasts up against his chest, a cry of pain is heard. A lone tear strays from the outer corner of her eye, tumbling slowly down the side of her face, over her temple only to be absorbed by her silkened hair.

Even though it's not like he wasn't aware of her virginity or her naivete, she finds herself pursing her lips closed, drawing them into a thin line. She couldn't let him hear her cry out in pain, but it was too late; he heard her anyways.

What would he think of her now? What has she just done!? Her innocence is gone; never to return again. Feeling as if a part of her has died, she mourns it. Yes, a new life was beginning and she would learn her role and position as time goes on; but she will forever miss the part of herself that she just lost.

But was it truly lost? Or was it something she gave up willingly? Lainey couldn't tell at the moment. Her mind was swimming, her thoughts a jumbled mess and the pain in her loins was sharp, reminding her of what was taking place at this very moment.

Ever so slowly, she opens her eyes and looks up to Ceawlin, easing the tight hold of her fingers around his biceps. Lainey was trembling beneath her husband, frightened and unsure. Yet, seeing the look in his eyes seems to ease her fears; even if it is just a little.

Her face is flushed, her hairline and the sides of her cheeks near her temples and ears are wet with a fine sheen of perspiration, fine strands of silken hair stuck to it. Whether it was natural instinct that took over or the unspoken guidance Ceawlin provided, slowly her hips began to rise subtly to meet his.

Granted, Lainey's garden was tight, of course providing additional pleasure for him; however it hurts her. How do women get use to this? Does it become easier and less painful as the days and nights with their husbands continues with their daily lives?

She hopes so. She can't imagine being able to do this whenever Ceawlin wanted his pleasures for the rest of their lives together if it doesn't.

Through her short drawn breathes and her tears, she manages a soft smile up to him; and though she is hurting, she nods to him gently; a silent way of letting him know he can continue.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

The grip on his arms was a subtle signal yet a powerful one to him. It was a signal of the last vestiges of defences that she had. A last cry not to be invade by him. A last cry as the pain, hitherto unknown before, wracked through her body and mind. A last cry which he heard, piercing through his passion, making him aware that there was another person there to share his passion. Passion was not his alone, he fully understood that now. It was a shared thing, and when shared, it was more infinitely pleasurable. He knew that he could go on with his own and come to satisfactory conclusion, but what would be the point?

This was what he was asking himself, as he tried to find the answer, as each dreadfully slow inch, immersed itself into her extremely tight Garden to find the Flower of her Spring. Any faster, and he would have finished even before he began. He was that passionate at this point. The slowness allowed him to calm down, and see the solitary tear that rolled down her cheek.

Each breath of hers that she exhaled and he inhaled in turn, he remembered. Each flutter of her lashes so coy, and yet so innocent, he committed to memory. The silky hair on her face, glued by her perspiration, he memorized and visualized for future. The arch of her back to his chest, he took into account when the morning came once more. And each slight and yet noticeable movement of her hips to meet his slow advance, he could not forget no matter how hard he tried.

He was gentle as possible, as he remembered his own first time. His was as hard as steel, and he had thought any movements of his steel would result in hurting the woman. This midwife, and the milkmaid had encouraged him, just as Lainey was doing right now, with the slight tilt of her nod. He was afraid, like he was now, that he still was hurting the woman, no matter what the others might say.

The nod brought only the slightest increase in speed in exploring her depths. The “retreat” of his hardness was just as slow. The feeling of being so totally enclosed was indescribable. So warm, and so wet. His movements was definitely aided by the warmth and wetness, so much so that when the tip of the Head pass where the barrier was, he reversed course and started his slow thrust again. This repetition, with slight increase in speed as she got used to the rhythm, was accompanied by deep, longing kisses. The playful battles of their tongues, were mirrored by their joined loins. Not only did he just move back and forth, but in slight curves as well. A variation, to lessen her pain, as he believed it.

His free hand slowly draw themselves along her thighs up to her breasts and underarms. Almost in a ticklish play, but not quite, just feeling the smoothness of her skin, and the tiny silky hairs on her body. It was an equally wonderful and indescribable feeling to be doing that. Running, tracing, tickling her body, as his moved his hips, grinding his pelvis to hers. Skin to skin. Hair to hair. Grinding his body to hers, as they become one.

He was drawn to the moment, sweat also glistening on his body. Every muscle in his body tensed and used, as he tried to achieve some form of a rhythm. From this point onwards, that was all in his mind, the rhythm of lovemaking. No longer was the primary concern of not hurting her. No longer the primary concern of duty. Just that he was too far along swept into the moment, as he began to speed up, power up, deeper into her than ever before. His hardness so deep and shallow, and deep again. The conclusion was not so far off…

 

[SassyWench]

Murmured mews are muffled by the passionate kisses they share. Her body moves as one with his, it seems to come naturally to her now. Odd.. she's never been 'taught' what to do or how to do it. The pain in her newly explored garden paths begins to ease, but it doesn't completely go away. It would take a few more nights of making love to her husband for that to happen.

Her thighs were trembling, pressed against his hips. In fact, her whole body was trembling beneath Ceawlin's. Emerald eyes open slowly as she pulls from the kiss, bringing her dainty hand up towards his cheek. Lainey hesitates, her fingertips shaking while she moves her head to the side ever so slightly. Soon, her soft fingers were caressing against his cheek with a feather-light touch as her eyes move slowly over his features.

He's different. Yes, she has noticed the tender care he has taken with her; doing what he can to ease the pains of having her virginity taken. Is this how love feels? How will it be when it's over? These, along with a myriad of other thoughts pass through her mind like whispers on the breeze.

When Ceawlin's motions speed up, Lainey closes her eyes, once more curling her fingers around his upper arms. This hurt. She whimpers a few times, her body tensing then suddenly her eyes shoot open and her head cants back far, pressing deep into the pillow beneath. Oh my! What's he doing!?

Ceawlin has found the one spot in the garden that all men are eager to locate. Paradise. Internally, her body heat rises dramatically, her inner walls begin to milk the thick, lengthy shaft exploring the moist darkness contained within.

Those whimpers soon become hushed moans, Lainey writhes beneath Ceawlin as he continues to force her pleasure to the edge.

With his final thrust, tears trickle from the corners of her eyes as her body betrays her completely; twitching then tensing. A final outcry of ecstacy, her fingers dig into the muscles of his biceps as Ceawlin brings her to her very first orgasm.

Breathing heavy, she slowly looks up to him as the pleasure subsides, her hips still rising and falling gently; circling against his groin from time to time.

She might not ever look more beautiful than she does at this very moment. Basking in the afterglow of being taken to the edge and pushed over it tends to bring out a woman's beauty that simply wasn't noticed before. Lying there, so vulnerable and so openly exposed like this...

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

“Unghh!…”

A very guttural, animalistic even, deep from his chest escaped his lips. A very primal and long grunt, that went back all the way to the dimmest history. The breathe of which mingled with it.

The hushed moans were what brought him over the edge, just as she herself was swept away down the waterfall. Not that her final twitching and then tensing did not help, just that it was secondary. The final thrust, after which he did not even have to move. Not a single muscles, as his passion came in a torrent that flowed to nourish the Flower of her Secret Garden. The flow of the warm Essence into every part of her Secret Garden, the Essence of which will hopefully germinate the Flower. It could not have been abated or lessened no matter how he tried to. He had absolutely no control over it…

He did not even notice the very slight trickle of blood that flowed beneath her fingernails as she dug into his arms. All he noticed was her absolute tightness at the end, if that was even possible. All he noticed was the wonderful drowning sensation that both of them had just experienced. All he noticed was the rising to surface of the water to be able to breathe again.

And she look like an angel with a halo at that point, when they finally reached the surface. Her skin glowed, as did her eyes, nostrils and hair. As did every part of her seat glistened body. The night was chilly, and the room was not so different as well. But he was warm enough to sweat, as she was. Warmed by gentle rise and fall of their hips.

He was fully drained, and yet, his passion had not dropped one bit. This meant that his steel was still as hard, or it only seemed that way, as he withdrew, albeit as slow, from her. It plopped out like a slippery eel, which brought a sunshine of a smile from his. His eyes held the same sort of life and mirth. He was happy, when he should be, although it may seem like he was man taking his pleasures. This was a different kind of happiness. A kind that he had not known before. It was certainly strange.

A long deep kiss, not playful at all, followed. It was strange, but he wanted to do that. Not a perfunctory kiss to say thank you for the good time, but rather one that had a deep longing fulfilled behind it. It was a strange kiss to say the least. It was almost like the same feeling that he had when he was little, in the arms of his mother, when she kissed him good night and sweet dreams.

He got up and noticed the blood spot on the white sheets. Normally this would bring a smile to man, one that had just taken a virgin. Strangely enough, he did not want to go downstairs and announce to the world that the bride was suitable and unspoiled and all that. He just wanted to take her in his arms and go to sleep with her. The boisterous laughter coming through the woodwork brought him back to earth. He held out his shirt, much too big for her, and motioned to be dressed in it, while he took the sheets downstairs and show to the world that he was now a married man.

The laughter and congratulatory mood got to its highest point when he grinned and showed the blood stained sheets to the guests. The whoops and cat calls grated on his nerves, and for the first time tonight, his father cracked a smile. There were offers to drains the warm ale from every direction. In the cacophony that filled his ears, all he could think about was getting back upstairs and lay down with his new bride in his arms.
“Lainey…” he whispered softly in her ears, after bolting the door, and a warm blanket covered them.

“Lady Lainey, now of the Barony of Theomund…” A soft kiss, followed by arms to wrap themselves around her.

“Lady Lainey, my wife…” The word that came easily to his lips, as rest beckoned, and a tomorrow and many more tomorrows that hold such wonderful promises…

 

[SassyWench]

Lainey watches Ceawlin as he grabs his oversized shirt and pulls it on, fingering her lip with the softest of touch. His passionate kiss spoke volumns. She was his, no man would put assunder of what now was their marriage. His kiss spoke of possession -- she is his and his alone. Yet, the possession wasn't like that of an object; more like ... she was fine porcelain doll that he would covet and hold; protect and love.

Her loins ache. The ache is more of a burning feeling than anything else. Why wouldn't it be? A protective barrier has been ripped away from her, this burning pain was to be expected only she doesn't know this.

Lainey notices when his eyes wander to the bed linens. She turns onto her side and slides her hand between her cheek and the pillow, pulling the top sheet close to her bare chest. She knows what he must do now. In many ways, it cheapens the sacred act.

He'd be back after showing his proof. She knew this. Lainey doesn't seem to move as the door closes. But she does. Those emerald orbs slowly close, lush lashes caress her cheeks, and the tears begin to flow as she curls her knees up closer to her stomach while folding her arm across it.

Things had gone so well; until the time he grabbed the blood-stained sheet and took it downstairs. She feels so demeaned; like a used whore. Creamy shoulders hitch as her silent weeping continues, the whoops and cheers of the men below only force that pain into her head; Lainey turns so that her face is smashed into the pillow as deeply as she can go without actually smothering herself.

As the pigs below continue with their taunts, derogatory remarks and cheers, Lainey drifts off to sleep. When Ceawlin returns, she's to the point of nearing a perfect deep sleep. As he slides into the bed and scoots in close to her, she turns onto her side, her delicate face now close to his chest.

"Lainey..." His voice pulls her up from the state of unawareness a notch or two; evident in the way she nestles perfectly into his embrace. Shifting her head against the pillow, heart-shaped lips return a soft, salty kiss; (made salty by her tears) then she snuggles back in to drift off once more.

Whether or not his seed had fertilized her garden wouldn't be known for another six to eight weeks; unless she suddenly couldn't keep any food or drink down. Even then, it could be passed off as a cold or the flu. It is the winter season and many became ill from the bitter cold.

It doesn't take long for their breathing to become synchronized; just another indication of how the two strangers were melding into one heart and one love.

Thus, they remain as such. She nestled against him, he holding her in his arms until the dawn breaks.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

Sleep came in the most desirable manner, deep and very restful. His heart beating, almost in concert with hers, making the enveloping darkness seemed welcomed. He was contented to sleep, with her safely in the embrace of his arms. A signal to man that he can and will always protect her in the ways a husband will. It was rather funny the way his thinking had now shifted to the concept of him being a husband. Up to this point, it had been so alien to him, the institution of marriage. And the soft kiss, with a salty taste, reminded him of how fragile she was. He could have scolded her for being still a child for crying, but he did not want to. She was his, and she can cry in his arms, making him feel like the protector that he was now. He now had an extra responsibility, one that he should dread but surprisingly did not, in fact welcomed it like sleep…

****

The blasted cock, the one that will be dinner in the evening, crowed at first light. Ceawlin stirred first, and then remembered where he was, and what happened the night before. The warmth of blankets could not compare to the warmth that was in his heart. A husband to a wife. Truly a man now. A man who had embarked on the journey of marriage. Her breathing was still steady, and he feared to move anymore than he should if she should wake before time.

Today was the first day of their lives together, and he certainly did not want to ruin it by waking her up. Not when she was so peacefully nestled on his body and in his arms. It was such a wonderful feeling of holding a woman thus that he was contented. Often, the woman would leave him to his snoring after the union, leaving him to be lonely the morning after. This time was different however, as not all his conquests leave immediately after. He himself could have left, and should, but he did not want to. That was the key difference. He did not want to leave the feel of her silky hair on his chin, the smooth skin on his body.

He can hear the women of the village already up and to their daily chores. The men are still passed out drunk downstairs. The celebrations must have gone on way longer than he had expected, but then again, he was not paying much attention. He was focused on his new bride, even as he got out of bed, got cleaned and dressed, and sat on a chair, looking at her still sleeping so peacefully. Last night, he wished he had not gone downstairs to show those other barbarians the blood-stained sheets. Somehow, it felt demeaning, even to himself. He wanted to keep it all to himself, a possessive nature only now showing for the first time.

As he looked at her, and the steady rise and fall of the blankets covering her milky white breasts, he felt a stirring on his loins. But it was too early to be taking her again, and he was not thinking about the time either. He might make her resent him, that was not a good start to the marriage. No, a mock fight in the woods by the village would dull his passion until she was ready again. He was a man, and he was always ready. He wondered if Fraomar was awake, but more than likely he was not. There was another alternative.

“Lainey… Lainey…” with a soft peck on her rosy cheeks. His idea would have dulled his passion. Instead, the kisses only served to harden his passion. He must remove himself further from her if he was to walk downstairs and not to be laughed at for being such a boy.

“Eda, good morning. Could you be so kind as to fix me and the lady some breakfast and put them in a basket? And wake up Steadman, and have him saddle the horses. The Lady and I are going on a small morning ride down by the lake,” he whispered, even though he was downstairs in the kitchen, still afraid of waking her up.

“My Lord, I’ll fix some liver and grilled onions. You know, for the lady after her first night…”

“Ummm… I don’t know, and not sure if I want to…”

“Go and wake up the Lady. I’ll have the liver and horses ready by the time you two are ready…” she finished with a knowing wink, although the implications of which still escaped Ceawlin.

“Lainey… Lainey…”

 

[SassyWench]

Lainey stirs slightly as Ceawlin removes himself from the bed, moving her head to rest in the indentation left by his own head. She smiles a little in her sleep; the warmth still there from his body feels good against her cheek.

Her dreams were pleasant enough. The dreams of school-aged girl falling in love overnight. Though the night prior had been quite painful to her, there had also been deep pleasure. Pleasure she never knew existed before.

Rolling onto her back, long lush lashes flutter open with his kisses to her cheeks, a small smile begins to shine upon her face. Struggling to remain awake, Lainey ends up drifting off for just a wee bit longer. The call of the rooster didn't even seem to phase her.

In her dream, she heard her name being called; but he was calling her name softly in the waking world as well. This is what pulls her back. Opening her eyes slowly, she smiles to him again; reaching up to caress his cheek.

"Ceawlin..." She whispers. Her eyes are filled with adoration, her thumb tenderly strokes his chiseled cheekbone.

"Good morning to you...."

His scent is intoxicating, his eyes are dreamy and her heart is aflutter.

"Hmm. Oh!" She sits up quickly, pressing the warm blankets against her bare breasts. "Oh, I fear I've overslept. Please, forgive me. I'll have breakfast prepared quickly."

Scuttling from the bed, she walks over to the wardrobe to choose her attire for the day, standing beautiful in the morning's light of the sun streaking in through the window. Her naked body still seems to hold the glow of last night.

 

[Zirconn]

Ceawlin

Ceawlin felt his passion rising to hardness when he saw the shine on her silky body as she got dressed. Although he had seen many a milkmaid get dressed before, it still amazed him to see such a beauty get dressed in front on. The reverse, when everything revealed to his eyes alone, become clothed once more for the rest the world.

“Ic grete þe, Hlæfdige min,” he walked over and planted a kiss on the revealed neck, before the barrier of the velvet enclosed it once more.

“Do not worry about breakfast, as it is not your station to prepare… Come… We’re going for a ride. It’s a lovely morning, a bit chilly, but the sun is not hidden away like yesterday. Come. I want to show you something. We can have breakfast there…”

He led her down to the stables where surprisingly two horses had already been saddled. He had assumed that Steadman was still passed out, but apparently the piercing voice of Eda had broken through her husband’s dim mind. The roan, a sedate one with a side saddle, would suit Lainey fine. It was a must for everyone, including the ladies of this Barony, to be able to ride. In times of war, and it was not too infrequent occurrence, everyone must do their part.

He felt his passion rising again as he lifted her by the waist to be on the side-saddle. He really needed to refrain himself from touching her again anytime soon, although the kiss on her rosy cheeks was an involuntary one, and her dainty hands that he held for a while, was an afterthought. He smiled at her, still holding her hands and the reins, as he walked the horse out of the barn.

He was still smiling as the horses broke for a stately gait. His heart was racing, with constant glances to her, so beautiful. The horses did not require the crops, as it seemed that they knew exactly what to do and where to go.

The sun was warming the earth a little bit, by the droplets of water from the frost last night. The ride was taking them pass sparse combs of oaks and ashes. The day was indeed chilly, with a soft blanket of white veil shrouding the earth. Through the boughs that parts the fields of the estates, they rode. Passing nary a farmer in sight, but the fields, silent, asleep in the winter. There were farmhouses scattered about, but only the silvery wisps of smoke from chimneys announced their disparate locations.

It was indeed a very nice idea that he had. A smile constantly on his face. It had been a while since he felt the freedom of riding. Of course, the frequent glances to his new bride, gave him added pleasure. Their breathes were thick like the smoke on those chimneys, as they passed from open fields to the combs of forest that dotted the fair land. The horses automatically slowed their pace, as Ceawlin lead them the to river’s edge.

The lift that helped her off the horse also brought another surge of warm passion to his loins. He was like a boy again. The river had a sheen, shining brightly into his eyes. The boat was still there, as it always will be. She had a look of bafflement, as going on a frozen river in the dead of winter was a mad prospect. She must have felt that he had indeed lost all of his mental faculties. But there was a place that he had to show her, no matter what time of year. It was very important to him for her to see it.

Without any preamble, the small wooden boat, packed with two people, food and warm blankets, moved silently and surely, guided by his strong arms, to its destination. The vista of both sides of the bank was eerie, with no sound from the sleeping earth, except the crack of the very thin ice and the soft waves lapping against the sides.

Then they came to a part where on each side of the river grew willows, long and mournful, swaying to an inaudible music. There were masses of reeds dancing in the slight breeze. The river got shallower, and the tall reeds, taller than any man alive or dead, obscured the view of the banks. He hoped the sureness of his hands reassured his wife. The reeds too soon, parted to give way to a lake, from which the river was fed. The water was also shiny, with a thin layer of ice, but beneath the crystal, fishes with silver scales could be seen swimming lazily around.

To the left bank, there was a hut on stilts. He steered the boat towards it, and docked beside a wooden pier. They were finally here. The wooden planks groaned and creaked loudly in the silence, but it did not gave way. Instead it led them, hand in hand, passed some more reeds and riverine grass, that eventually opened up to a small pond. In the middle, was a huge oak tree, ancient beyond the counting of man’s years. At the base was a shrine, a moss-covered rock shrine that was carved by hand and nature together.

In a very low voice, “Welcome to my Sacred Grove, Lainey…”

“Mother, say hello to my new wife, Lady Lainey Richelle Rigby. We got married yesterday. And as I promised you, I’ll take care of her like you’ve taken care of me. Respect her, like you’ve taught me to. And hopefully, I can bring your grandchildren to visit…”

 

[SassyWench]

During the entirety of their trip, Lainey couldn't help but to gaze upon him for long moments as she thinks of how her life has suddenly changed.

Married to a man she still has to get to know, she hopes that he continues to be just the way he is. Surprises such as this adventure are one thing she could get use to.

The scenery is positively captivating! And yes, she thought that crossing a frozen river was suicidal to say the least, however she put her trust in him and he didn't do a thing to refute that trust.

When he takes her to his secret shrine, and to his mother's grave, Lainey can't help but to look upon him with tears misting her eyes. Her hand lifts, reaches out and cups his cheek; her thumb rubs gently across his perfectly chiseled cheekbone.

"Tis beautiful here, darling. She must have been very special to you; I can see that in the great care you've taken to create this magnificent shrine."