This story is a work of historical fiction and set in the Viking period of time and is another rewrite of my own story. I have re-edited it and added a few things here and there. Enjoy!
Pink Sky
Jager was sick of the rain that never seemed to stop weeping from the clouds. He was soaked to the bone. The air smelled strongly of salt and nothing else as one day bled into the next. The plaiting of his hair was driving him to the point of madness as it tickled the back of his head and the shaven sides itched as the stubble grew in.
It was dusk after days of travel when finally, at last, a tall dark-haired man had shouted "land!" The 30-man vessel at the front of the group broke out in loud cheers and Rene, Jager's elder brother, clapped him roughly on the back.
* * * *
The worn wooden planks of the door broke almost effortlessly under Jager's boot as he kicked in the door of a very small, shabby home near the outside edge of the village they were presently raiding. He doubted very much that there was anything of value inside beyond a small amount of food he may be able to collect for himself, but he reasoned that he may as well scope it out. The more experienced men had gathered the items of real worth already. The mid-day light filtered into the single room and Jager stood still as his eyes adjusted to the lower light. He observed a recently extinguished fire in the center of the dwelling, along with an area that was clearly designated for preparing food, as well as a space for sleeping. Moving toward the hearth, he grasped a partial loaf of bread that sat there, on a small wooden serving dish. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he was shoved from behind, grunting and nearly losing his balance. The bread hit his boot and bounced onto the floor.
From behind him, a young woman rushed forward, grabbing the dust-covered loaf and tucking it under her arm. She turned and faced Jager, head down, staring at him as she backed away. Her hair was dark and wild and she was young, maybe his own age. Smudges of grime, contrasting starkly against her pale skin, made her blue-green eyes pop, despite the grainy light. They reminded him instantly of the color of the water of the warm springs that formed in pools on the mountain side near his home. Her dress was a faded green and looked quite worn-out. It was obvious that she was of very low status.
The tension was so thick it almost made Jager feel vulnerable. The young woman glared at him, but Jager was simply curious now, no longer interested in any food she might possess. She was delicate-looking and her feet were naked and grimy. Approaching footsteps jerked him roughly from his distracted state.
"Brother," a familiar voice spoke, close behind. Rene entered through the broken door, kicking a loose plank to the side. Jager saw the girl cringe. "Ah," the elder man gripped Jager's shoulder tightly. "I see you found a treasure in this shithole." He could hear the smile in his voice. "Take her, then."
The blonde turned to face Rene, and a thick piece of rope was placed in his hands.
"Tie her up, and bring her. We're going soon, before dusk." With that, the dark-haired man was gone, dust following in a thin trail behind him as he walked briskly away. Thinking it was best to comply, the young Northman moved towards his find and she pressed herself as flat as possible to the wall. She looked very frightened, and Jager supposed he couldn't blame her. He tied up her hands snugly and without a word. The bread dropped to the floor and silent tears began slipping down her smooth cheeks. Tugging her from the poor little house, he led her towards the shore. She didn't struggle, but he could hear her footsteps, hesitant and heavy behind him against the bare, dry dirt of the ground, and an occasional sniffle.
* * * *
The journey home was more of the same soul-saturating rains. Jager scowled at the sky.
"Thor's might, why does it rain so?" he cursed under his breath. "If I must be confined with this lousy lot for days, at least let me be dry. Fuck." He grumbled, his back aching as he rowed the crimson-sailed vessel in time with his brothers. The only thing that kept him sane, as his plaited hair dripped down the back of his neck in a way that made him want to tear the offending thing from his own scalp, was the woman he had taken for his own, along with the chatter of the other men, talking of their children or of teenaged trysts their wives knew nothing of. Jager did not offer input, and instead kept silent. The girl stayed huddled with a few others that had been collected at the village for the entirety of the trip, but he couldn't help but wonder about her. Why was she alone in that house? Why did she not fight him? Why did he find her so attractive? She did not look again at him until he tugged her by the rope around her wrists to his home he shared with Rene.
It was raining in the village too when they finally, blessedly arrived in afternoon, and Jager wanted to scream. The air was chilly for springtime and it made him cranky. He felt mildly guilty though, as the woman he led seemed to have trouble keeping up with his brisk pace.
Rene was nowhere to be found when Jager and the young woman entered the modest home. He had probably gone to the hall to drink and eat and fulfill his lust with the rest of the men as they celebrated a successful raid. Jager had no interest in festivities at the moment and after collecting a bit of meat for himself and his captive, exited the crowded and noisy party. They ate as they walked, the young woman tearing into the dried and seasoned meat ferociously. Immediately, he gently pushed the girl to a rear corner, out of the way and sparked a large fire in the center pit. Without hesitation, he stripped himself nude and stood before the flames, letting the warmth chase away the bite of dampness from his bones. His lower back throbbed from constant rowing and his damned hair was itchy and wet against his skin. Unashamed of his nakedness, he turned to the girl then, and approached slowly.
She cowered only slightly and held her bound hands out in front of her, as if it would keep him away. Jager didn't bother to speak to her. He knew she wouldn't understand his language. Instead, he untied her hands, working the knot out with his fingers. She let her arms drop to her sides when she became unbound, but didn't move beyond that. With minimal effort, he tugged her dress from her body, and it pooled around her ankles. He didn't refrain from letting his eyes drift down over her exposed skin. She was perfectly soft and pale and smooth, round, full breasts with hardened nipples and soft-looking hips. Her waist narrowed in a way that Jager found very appealing. Arousal tingled in his belly as he grasped her shoulders and steered her towards the fire. Releasing her when she was a comfortable distance away, he returned to gather her dress from the floor. Jager shook out the garment and moved to drape it over a chair near the fire.
Jager quickly stepped over to a storage trunk along the wall and pulled out a soft bear pelt, approaching her slowly. He could see the fear in her eyes only for a brief moment, before it dissolved into a small smile as he held the fur out. She took it from him gently, holding eye contact for just a moment.
He dumped himself onto the pile of furs where he slept, resting on his back adjacent to where she stood. His head turned his head, watching. The girl's eyes slipped shut and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy the warmth of the flames, still holding the folded fur in her hands. Reaching up with a single hand, she pushed her long, damp locks behind her shoulders and smiled a little. When she turned, Jager was treated to a clear view of her moon-pale backside and creamy thighs and he nearly growled in the back of his throat. It came out as more of a purr. She cast her eyes his way, and simply gazed at him.