* Aftershocks
Bray's mother lie in her bed, still weeping from earlier in the evening. Her husband had left her be, knowing that the mother's loss must far exceed the father's. However, now they both needed to sleep, and she had suffered enough. "He was a good son." She didn't move from her ball. "He brought our family honor this evening. He made me proud. There is no greater sacrifice he could make then to safeguard us all." Had the words gotten through?
Even as he wondered, he found tears welling in his own eyes. Suddenly he realized the words would never get through. Their son was gone. Like it had become real for him for the first time. He moved close to his wife, wrapping her in his arms, and let out a tear. "Our son is gone." And then the tears began to flow for both of them.
--
"Why isn't she back yet?" The older yet attractive woman was pacing back and forth in the front-room of a modest log cabin, looking a bit discheveled in her sleeping gown. The hearth's raging fire radiating light and heat into the home. "What if they broke the treaty? What if they killed our only child? What if Erika is gone?"
Her husband was seated at the table, wearing nothing more than a pair of leather pants. Even the summers were cold in the Norselands, but after becoming accustomed to the winters, a chilly morning like this was refreshing. "You give these humans too much credit. Do you think us sheep to be slaughtered by them? The 'war' they remember was nothing more to us than entertainment for our young boys. Forget not that our daughter is Norse, and I trained her personally. She could level that entire settlement by herself. If she's not home before nightfall..."
The words had only partially calmed her, but it would have to be enough. She had learned long ago there was a fine line as the wife of their King. Push a little and he'd reassure you, push alot and your weakness became disgust to him. She rubbed his shoulders. "I'm certain you're right, Lord." Truthfully she was glad he was even here. He'd stopped in just a few minutes ago after a night spent with who knows which young maiden of their clan. Perhaps despite her beauty, she didn't satisfy him. Perhaps he'd come home for something familiar.
* Daybreak
Bray woke up warm and covered. For a moment he wondered if he was dead or alive. He could hear a crackling and feel the nearby heat of a fire's embers. He pushed his arms about, throwing aside the heavy covering. Still in the forest; moments from the previous night flooded back into his mind. The crowd, the chanting, the sacrifice, the Norse warrior, the girl. He became suddenly alert, looking about, but saw noone.
The fabric that had covered him looked to be a piece of the warrior's clothing. So she had returned? Of course she had. The smouldering fire was evidence of that. Aside the fact that he didn't remember starting one, each of the logs was much larger than he could lift, than any human could lift. "At least she didn't leave me to die." Even with no audience, Bray needed to hear himself talk. He wondered if he should stay here, or try to head south towards home.
He looked at the doubled over fabric, not immediately recognizing the shape. Unfolding it, he cocked his head looking at the triangular form, before a thought jolted him with a moment of shock. At best guess, it looked like a female chest pad, worn under armor to insulate their more delicate parts from the rough surfaces of their outer armor. "Mother it's big!" The night's events had never given him a good look at her, though at more than two times his height...
His adolescence got the better of him, and he began thinking how big the breast must be to need this pad. He looked around as if he needed to check that he was alone, and then crawled onto the still warm leather. It spanned clear from his head to his waist. He marveled at it for a moment, realizing this is the closest he would ever get to a Norse bosom. Possibly any bosom. Why not indulge. He pulled at the leather, wrapping himself up in it. He thought of the brief moment looking up at her in the moonlight.
He hadn't really seen her shape in the dark, not more than a glimpse, but his mind filled in the gaps, and in a moment he could picture his stunning captor. "Ohh Bray, are you cold?" His imitation of the gruff yet feminine voice was comical, but enough to fuel his fantasy. "Yes I am. Would you mind sparing a piece of your clothing?" In his minds eye, she pulled at her clothing even as she refused him. "Ohh, it's much too cold for that. You'll need body heat to keep you warm. I'll hold you against my bosom." His mock feminine voice was silly and unconvincing, but who would care? The forest beasts? He imagined her lifting him, not to her shoulder, but against one of her huge tits. The pad currently wrapping him a proxy for it's softness. "Is that enough, or should I squeeze tighter? Mmmmm." The feeling quickened his pulse and stiffened his body, some parts more than others.
He was startled out of his daydream by a gruff throat clearing. Startled enough to quickly throw the leather covering open and find himself lying on his back looking straight up at his beautiful captor returned. In the morning light, she was even more stunning that he had imagined her to be. Her tunic was off one shoulder, the contrasting brown leather harness still worn and holding the shape of her monstrous tits. Her lips held a smirky crinkle as she spoke to him, basically for the first time, "I hope you're not soiling my shoulderpad." She let out a little laugh.
Bray quickly realized the shoulder fabric missing from her tunic and that lying beneath him were one and the same. Her opposite shoulder held the matching piece she hadn't torn free. He felt immediately silly for thinking he was wrapped up in a chest pad. Then he wondered exactly how much she had heard, suddenly feeling doubly embarrassed for playacting his fantasy aloud. His could feel his cheeks flushed crimson red as he next concluded that if this were just her shoulder-pad, her breasts were even bigger than he thought. A fact easily confirmed by looking up at her.
He was glad to find her attention no longer on him. She had knelt and pulled out a massive knife and was working with it out of his sight. Standing, his vantage point was barely high enough to see she was busy cleaning and skinning a Yuca Bear. The Yuca was a fierce beast feared for their taste of human flesh, but in her hands it looked more like an oversize rabbit. The bloody body and fur turning about easily in her hands as she skinned the fresh kill. When she finished cleaning it, she impaled it on a stick before tossing a handful of dry branches into the still smoldering fire logs. Several seconds later, the flame caught, and she proceeded to roast the meat.
* Making Camp
Spending the day slung over the giant Norse girl's shoulder had been much more comfortable without the hard wooden armor between them. If Bray had a choice, he might have opted for some view of where they were going. However, looking down her backside had it's advantages. It offered the occasional glimpse of her bare bottom when the fabric of her tunic shifted just right, and the knowledge that his feet spent the day dangling over and brushing into one of her huge breasts. "Are we close? I could use a moment on the ground soon." They had been talking on and off during the day. Bray had learned, among other things, that her name was Erika, and that she was a year younger than he was. Not that it made him feel her senior in any way.
"Not far now. If you pee on me, I might have to reconsider killing you." Her voice sounded almost serious, but the jab of her huge thumb into his side told him she was kidding. He hoped. With the rhythmic motion of her huge strides, he wasn't sure how long he could hold it in, but he'd try. "I still have no idea what to do with you. My people don't get along with humans. Maybe with the right fur you could pass for a pet lynx." She laughed, her suggestion obviously preposterous for many reasons. He wished because she was joking about him being a pet, but truthfully he would just look like a human with a fur suit on.
"You could just turn around and take me home." He had suggested it several times already. Each time she had an elaborate explanation for why that wasn't possible. Apparently accepting the human sacrifice was a great honor given to the women of the clan with one stipulation, that they carry it out. Returning him would mean not only an end to the peace, but her exile from the Norsemen Clan. He really didn't want that for her. He just had no other suggestion to offer. He wanted to go home.
"There was a Norsemen who lived with humans once." Braced for yet another dismissal, her response took him off-guard. "As children we are told his story. Iranka the wise explorer. After living a life mapping the Norse lands, he decided to travel beyond, further south than any Norse had before or since. He left the Norselands, and found a strange settlement of tiny people. At the time, neither Norse nor humans had ever seen each other before." Her strides through the forest stopped for a moment, and he felt her body shift from side to side as if choosing a direction before heading off again.
"At first the humans were afraid, thinking Iranka would destroy them. However, he was merely an explorer and had no thirst for killing little men, so he let them be. He was tired and set up his own camp. After a time he found that humans began to visit him. Soon visits turned to patronage as they brought him small gifts of food or clothing. After the hard life of a Norsemen, exploring and mapping the forest, Iranka enjoyed the gifts. He thanks and encouraged the humans, and soon they brought him enough food he no longer had to hunt for himself. Some even set up camp near him, happy for his protection. They learned a common language, and he began to think of them as friends." Bray marveled at what is must have been like for those humans, meeting a Norse and thinking of him as a friend instead of a feared warrior.
"One day, however, he woke up hungry. He had no desire to hunt for his own food. He had grown lazy and happy being taken care of, so he yelled for his human friends, 'I'm hungry!' He had frightened them with his loud cry, and they came running. Soon they had caught, killed, and cooked him up a feast like he had never seen. He was amazed what they had done merely because he had asked. Drunk on wine and power, he next declared in a loud cry, 'I'm tired!' They cleared the mess and sang him into a blissful sleep with the most angelic of voices." Bray heard stories of human kings treated as well, so it came as no surprise a Norse would be.
"The next morning he awoke, head throbbing and missing home. He cried out, 'I'm lonely!' Hundreds of humans rushed to comfort him, but this time it only made him feel more lonely. He smashed his fist in frustration, accidentally hurting several humans in the process. Before he could apologize, they shuddered and ran to the forest, frightened. He was embarrassed at his own behavior." Bray felt a moment of sympathy for the Norse. Clearly he meant no harm.
"A few minutes later, one human came out of the forest. She was young and beautiful, and before he could apologize for his earlier behavior, she offered her tiny self to him. Feelings stirred in Iranka that he hadn't felt in years. He had been alone for too long, and longed for the passion of another. She spoke to him in a sassy tongue, challenging him to take her and have his way with her." Bray had seen young women respond to power and strength. He didn't doubt some would throw themselves at a Norse man if given the chance.
"Iranka's eyes filled with lust, and he grabbed her. He wanted a lover, and while she was too small to be that to him, she was so beautiful and sexy he wanted to posess her. Moments later he realized the feelings in his hands were her bones snapping and the wetness of her blood. In just an instant of desire he had broken her. It made him feel terrible. She had meant him no harm." Bray's feeling of sympathy shifted as the story became suddenly real for him. Was he not the human, destined to be crushed among the Norse? His skin crawled.
"Iranka decided right there he did not belong there among the humans, no Norse did. He laid her gently down, praying for the gods of the Norse to strike him down for his terrible act. He expected the humans to run from him, or perhaps attack him for his evil deed. If they did, he resolved to lie down and let them kill him. He surely deserved it. Instead, they sent him another maiden. When he refused her they sent another, and another. He looked down at these humans who he thought were his friends. However, he no longer recognized them. In their eyes he saw only fear. He left immediately, returning to the Norselands and shared the shame of living among humans so no Norse would attempt it ever again." Bray had a new understanding for why the Norse kept their distance. What he didn't understand, was why he was still alive.
"So you see. I could take you home and live among you. But your settlement would grow to fear me. I would be alone. Then one day, I would get hungry, tired, and horney and accidentally crush you like a bug." Bray didn't know what to say, and even if he did, his mouth was too dry to speak. He felt her huge powerful thumb press into him. "So stop suggesting I take you home, little man." She laughed, and suddenly he felt confused. He didn't know whether to laugh with her, or cry at his own impending death. Was she trying to make him feel better, or crush his spirit?
He noticed she had stopped walking. "We're here." He felt her grip tighten as she pulled him off her shoulder. "Behold, Dusvenderdoken. My home." When the fear of being dropped from a couple times his height passed, he looked to the valley below and saw a small town of houses, firelit windows and smoke showing in the evening dusk. Then he realized that far from small, everything he saw was absolutely huge, sized for Norsemen. Just a few houses taking up more land than his entire small village. He was far away from home indeed.
* A cold night
After the sun had set, Bray had already started to chill from the cold northern weather. Erika allowed him as much of the remaining cooked Yuca Bear as he would eat, a virtual feast of meat. Then she quickly finished the rest of it in a single bite. "If I make a fire this close to town, they will surely see it and send scouts up to investigate." Sitting in the darkness, she was merely a giant silhouette infront of him as she spoke. "I have no idea what they will do with you, so I think it'll be safer if that doesn't happen." He was already chilly. Thinking about a night without a fire made him feel cold to the bone. He didn't know what to say as he wondered if he would make it through the night.
Erika's huge body moved as she lie down on the ground. She lay something between them. He could hardly see, but after a few moments he recognized it to be the huge shoulder-pad she'd slept him in the night before. "Thank you, it's much colder this far north." He stood and climbed onto it, wrapping it over him as best he could. He shuddered, then rubbed his hands together, hoping he would warm up soon.
He felt pressure on him, then suddenly he was sliding towards her face. Before he knew what was happening, she had opened the wrap, exhaled her warm breath onto him, then closed the wrap, her hand lying over him tightly. The warmth trapped against him was divine. "No sense in sparing you only to let the cold take you." Her face was huge this close up, and he caught a flicker of moonlight reflected in her eye. At the same time, he realized he was equally close to her massive chest. She was staring right at him, and still he couldn't stop himself from looking. He heard her let out a little sigh, "try to stop gawking at them long enough to get some sleep, and don't try anything funny."
Now it was Bray's turn to laugh. "Try something. Right. I think we established already that I'm the one who gets minced into a pulp accidentally. Do you move in your sleep? Because right now I'm just wondering if they could be lethal." The jesting was putting him in a much better mood than the somber death and cold, so he kept it up. "I mean, I can think of worse ways to go than dying under the beautiful breasts on a gorgeous Norse girl, but right now I'm just hoping to survive the night."
Erika must have found it equally funny, because she started laughing. Only her laughter didn't stop. It kept on until it was unexpectedly uncontrolled. Then something broke, and suddenly she was sobbing. Bray couldn't help but feel responsible, "was it something I said? I hope my jokes arn't that bad."
"No. No. It's just. Boys back home are afraid of me. Well, really they are afraid of my father, but the result is the same. They are polite, but they chase every girl that moves while keeping me at a distance." Bray squinted in the darkness to see some kind of facial expression on her but couldn't. The whole situation had him so confused. Warrior, captor, guardian, girl. Each minute the Norsemen before him was showing a different person. It was hard to know how to respond. He decided in the end just to be himself.
"See and here I have the opposite problem. I talk to every girl in town, and none of them even notice me. Sometimes it's like I'm not even there. None of them are as beautiful as you though. Maybe if I was a big strong Norse boy I'd be intimidated too." They both caught each other's eyes and laughed at the irony. "No, I guess not. I'd tell you how beautiful you were every day, and you'd ignore me like the rest of them."
"Ohh, I wouldn't ignore you. You're sweet, and somehow I feel like more of a woman than I ever have." He felt her hand squeeze down on him a little tighter. "Now, it's time to get some sleep. In the morning I'll figure out what to do with this whole mess."