The Druid's Winter Solstice Gift

This is my entry for the

Literotica Winter Holidays Story Contest 2024

. If you like it, please vote!

That would mean a great deal to me!! Thank you for reading!!!

This story is fiction, and you are welcome to imagine the characters as you wish but

all characters are 18 summers old or older

and are happy with the events.

As with my other Stand Alone or One Off stories, there is an intro, 'Who Am I?' but no concluding 'For those who like closure.' There is also a 'If anyone wonders' where I try to address some things that I think might come up in comments, but it might generate more! But you can skip all of those if you are in a hurry, or don't care.

Note:-

this happens in the UK about 3000 to 2300 BC (BCE) so facts are not at all definitive.

Corrections and extra zing provided by

Freya Gersemi

. Read her story "Here Cums Santa's Cock" for further festive reading.

This is an origin story about Father Christmas, who is not at all the same as Santa Claus. See 'If anyone wonders' as to why.

Who Am I?

My name is Kyndra, fifth child of my mother, Idelisa, who is an old woman at forty-eight summers and who bore eleven babies. But only my youngest brother, Vaughn, her eighth, and I have made it to adulthood. She is now a widow in my father's house and my brother, wife and child live there. I have been the wife of Wynne, a fine man of twenty-nine summers, for two summers, having been joined late.

The Full Moon

I approached The Druid's Hall. The Hall where the married men met each new moon, to hear what the village chief had to say, what the great chieftain had commanded and to make decisions based on the advice of The Druid. It was also a place for men to get merry and to return to their houses to make children.

It was not a place for women to come at the rise of the full moon bearing a large white cheese, but that is what The Druid had commanded my man, Wynne, to get me to do. As I looked north and west, I saw the moon light up the tops of the hills where the first snows lay undisturbed. The houses all have ivy, red berried holly boughs and sprigs of mistletoe over their doors to scare Cailleach's winter spirits that it is spring and so stop them from entering. Yesterday's still frost lies in hollows and places where the sun god Llaw had not chased it away.

I was nervous for numerous reasons. I am twenty-four summers old and a wife of two summers, but I have not given my husband a son, or any child, and I feared being sent back to my father's house as barren. Wynne was not happy that I had failed him, like his previous wife, who he sent away before her third summer. Also, he was unsettled by The Druid's command that he send his wife, that being me, Kyndra, to the hall at the rise of the full Moon.

But The Druid had knowledge of healing and possibly at the great henge, on the plain to the south, he had learnt something new. Or he would release me from my life of failure, leaving Wynne free to take another as his wife. So, with both hope and fear, I knocked on the doors of the hall to answer the summons that had come nine days before. Unlike our houses which were guarded by ivy, holly and mistletoe, these doors were also guarded by boughs of red berried yew, the most powerful symbol of life, death, healing and dark Winter rituals.

Winter's Dying Sun

I had pulled out the truckle bed that I would use for the next seven days and moved it to the wall away from our marriage bed. I had felt myself sickening for the last five days since the moon had started to grow. I had hoped it meant that my stomach would also grow, a blessing from Arianrhod, the moon goddess, but this morning I was disappointed as the sun god, Llaw, cursed me.

When my Wynne saw the bed, he gave me a dark look. "Again Kyndra, again?"

I bowed my head. "I'm sorry, my love." And he just harrumphed, he may have said more but then there were three knocks of a staff on the door. It could mean only one thing. The Druid had finally returned. The whole village had been expecting him for five days, but until a few days ago, but it had been cloudy with snow that still lay on the hills to the north and west. I wondered which robe he would be wearing? I looked at Wynne and he nodded to me to go to the door, with my shame plain sight for The Druid to see. It seemed like, apart from the moon, all was dying.

My father had died last spring, when life was supposed to be renewed. Now, the trees were dead, all bare and lifeless. The Sun was dying as the light grew less and the cold grabbed the land. My life with Wynne was dying with every new moon that my belly didn't swell. Two new moons ago, our village had built a great fire to scare the spirit, Cailleach, with the burning of an effigy of her, and to show to Lugh that we were still here and needing his blessing. We then reduced the number of animals to our breeding stock and prepared the other meats for salting or smoking or both. It was a busy time. Unlike most others, we still had a significant number of pigs as they were required for our Druid to take to the winter feast at the great henge that lies two days walk to the south.

As I approached the door I wondered, red or white, the fire of new life or the shroud of death. He had been away at the henge on the great plain for the ritual of the passing of the year, when my father's spirit will have passed to the next world. The Druid's acolyte had carried his bones to the site along with others for that ceremony. The ceremonies would have been at the new stones, the long path, and feasting village. My Wynne had gone this year between sowing and harvest to help with the erecting of the stones, so he had told me about it.

I wondered, red or white - red we could stay and live - white we would stay and die under the eternal snows. Old people tell how their ancestors followed the sun, but we are pinned to the landscape, like the new stones. Pinned by our houses, our livestock, our harvest and our Druids. We will die or live with the sun. I might prefer death than the shame of being sent to my father's home as barren, like my husband's last wife had been.

I unbarred and opened the door, keeping my eyes to the floor as befitting a woman and I saw white! My breath caught in my throat and I glanced up in fear! But it was The Druid's acolyte, a young man who's name had been taken from him when he couldn't say it or hear it. He was as many summers as Linelle, the wife of my brother, Vaughn. I dropped my head again. A second robe and I saw white and felt a hand on my head. "Blessing on you, Kyndra. Look into my face."

I raised my head and saw the white was just the ermine trim to the full-length red robe. The red robe. They would live, but could I take the shame of living? I looked up into The Druid's kindly face with his short beard sprinkled with signs of grey, and he smiled at me. And then he walked to my husband. "Wynne. You two have done well this year. As have the whole village and the great chief's lands." He said scanning where the hams and similar were hung from the rafters with care. That location keeping them safe from the rats and the smoke keeping them safe from the flies.

They knew that he could tell how many pigs that represented, not that he didn't already know, and Wynne had contributed many to the holy feast and the summer works. The Druid and Wynne sat at the two benches on either side of their table and as they started to speak, I went to get the things I had prepared for this hour.

As I got things ready, I thought that it had been a good year for the whole village, even the whole family of our great chieftain and travelling merchants said it had been good everywhere they had been. Wynne was very good at rearing pigs, and we didn't keep cattle or sheep, trading meat for milk, and wool. Our crops had been bountiful as had our flax.

Except for one thing.

Just after harvest, it had seemed that I was carrying a child, and I had been with the other women threshing rye when suddenly I felt a pain in my stomach and couldn't stand. The old women took me to Wynne's house. They kept Wynne from me for two days, forcing him to sleep in the Bachelors' hall and they confirmed that there was no longer a child. I had heard them speaking with The Druid saying it was my fault as I had gone too many summers without a husband and had spent my fertility, but The Druid had shushed them.

The acolyte stood beside me, and I gave him two beakers of mead and carried in a platter of honeyed breads. They were placed on the table between the two men who were talking about what crops and animals Wynne should keep, including getting a milking cow, which intrigued me.

I went away and came back with a basket I had woven from this year's willow with more honeyed breads and a gammon, as an offering for the good news of Llaw not abandoning us to winter. Though if The Druid had been wearing white, I would have done the same. I knew there would be a great feast in The Druid's hall the next evening and our gifts to the Druid would be given to those in most need.

The Druid then looked at me and I laid the basket as a symbol of our gifts before him. I say symbol as Wynne had already delivered a larger willow basket with two hams, flax cloth and two large pots of rye grains to the hall, before the Druid left for the Henge, taking with him three of our fat pigs.

"Kyndra, get mead for yourself and my man. I have a command that all must seal with a drink." He did some holy shaping of his hands, and his man responded in the same way. That all happened nine days ago.

The Ceremony

The door was opened by Linelle, which surprised me, nineteen summers old whose family came to the village with The Druid three years ago. Druids move from village to village every six summers for reasons only they know, and a family comes with them to care for their household, but this Druid didn't have a family. A year ago, Linelle had been paired with my brother and they lived in her father's house with her mother and their new baby. I was pleased for them, but I was careful not to say much in Wynne's hearing.

I entered and the end of the hall was gently lit by yellow beeswax candles, so much nicer than the pig tallow ones I make for use in Wynne's house and for trade.

Linelle led me to the far end where a rare metal cauldron was suspended above the fire and a sweet scent filled the air. The Druid was sat on a stool by the table and gestured for me to lay the cheese on an empty platter, which I did. I also noticed there was a platter of four round flat breads and four beakers full of liquid. The acolyte was stood at the far end of the table.

The Druid stood and placed his hand on my head. "Tell me Kyndra, have you lain with Wynne since I instructed him on this ceremony of the new moon."

I trembled, not because I wouldn't lie, but at the memory of Wynne's frustration that because of my barrenness he was denied my body in his bed. "No Druid, I have not."

And with that he sat and gestured for me to do the same. He looked at the acolyte, made a holy sign and put out his left hand and a gold knife was placed in it. He used the knife to first cut the cheese into six portions, then one portion into four more.

Linelle stepped forward and used her fingers to put one piece of cheese on each round bread. She folded the bread around the cheese and offered it and a beaker to The Druid, who ate the bread and then drank from the beaker till it was empty.

Next, Linelle offered me the same and I couldn't refuse. I ate the bread and cheese, but as I raised the drink, I could smell it was mead, a lot of mead. I hesitated as I normally only drank cider and water, but The Druid gave me a look and slow nod, so I drank it down and felt the warmth spread down my body. Linelle then offered the same to the acolyte and finally took the last for herself.

The Druid spoke again. "Kyndra, you must not speak from this point on until you leave the hall. Nor must you speak to others of this ceremony. Not even Wynne." I nodded my consent presuming the ban on speaking was immediate. He continued. "When you return home, go to your truckle bed and sleep there until morning. Then you are to join your husband and submit to his pleasure." I nodded my understanding.

That done, The Druid and acolyte withdrew from the room to the personal quarters at the rear of the hall. I was unsure if the ceremony was over and I gave Linelle a puzzled look, but she just stepped forward and took me by the hand and led me to a place in front of the fire and caldron where there was a flat metal dish, nearly an arm's length across.

Linelle spoke. "Kyndra, take off your shoes and step in the dish and then remove your smock so I may bathe you." Clearly, the ceremony was not over and although being naked in the presence of another woman was not totally strange, the idea that Linelle would bathe me was. But as it was for The Druid, I did as I was asked.

Linelle brought a cloth from the caldron and the sweet scent increased, she applied the warm, wet cloth to my face and gently wiped it from hairline to neck, all the while having a gentle pressure on my shoulders to keep me steady. She replenished the cloth, or possibly got a second, and did the tops of my shoulders, front and back. Then each arm, and my back, bottom, legs and feet. That cloth was left on the platter. Being stood in front of the fire, my body dried, leaving the scent behind on my skin.

I was feeling relaxed but also aroused, from the gentle attention, the mead and the sweet scent, but also my thoughts of the impending touch of the cloth on my breasts, tummy and my woman's gentle parts. Linelle brought out another cloth from the caldron and soothingly washed first the left and then the right breast; but spending time to bring my nipples and their mound to full form.

I felt myself getting stimulated, in a way that Wynne rarely achieved. It got more intense as my lower chest and then tummy was washed, and finally as the warm scented water bathed my womanhood, this time with a firm pressure that caused me to whimper in desire for more. The final act was a firm washing of my rear crease and, leaving that cloth on the platter as well, Linelle stepped away briefly.

She returned with a white gown, much like the form of The Druid's, but in a strange shimmering cloth. It was not at all like wool and very much finer than flax. It felt magical, like being clothed in cream of the finest milk. Linelle fed my arms into the sleeves, placed it on my shoulders and tied a belt around the middle. She then knelt to put two shoes on my feet, made of the same material, but shod in fine leather.

That done, I was led to a door at the rear of the hall and Linelle knocked once. There were two knocks in response, at which signal she raised the hood of the gown, over my head, but it was strangely shaped as the front edge of it fell below my eyes, then a tie was fastened at the back of my head, and it was tight around my face. I could still see light, but not form. I heard three knocks and felt Linelle depart before the door opened. A gentle hand reached for mine and I let myself be led into the room, which was much darker than the hall but filled with the scent of rare herbs being slowly burnt.

I was gently turned and a hand on my shoulder guided me to sit and I landed, not on a stool or bench, but the edge of a bed. A hand stroked my cheek, and I smiled at how gentle it was and how soft the fingers were, but masculine. Then there were hands on both of my shoulders that gently eased me to lie on the bed, which felt like it was covered in furs. I now felt the hands run down my body, stroking the sides of my breasts. I raised my hands to touch those arms, but in a sudden movement both my wrists were held and my arms gently, but firmly placed back on the bed.

I got the message that I was not to interfere with whatever was happening to me. The hands returned to the sides of my breasts and then down to my waist where they moved oddly until I realised the tie of the gown had been undone, particularly when I felt it move off my body, releasing the scent from the water. I realised I must be fully exposed to the man, or men, in the room. A thought that I found strangely arousing, rather than troubling, especially as Wynne was supposed to be the only man to see me that way, not that he often did.

The hands reappeared on my waist and started stroking upwards, now unmistakably on my bare flesh, and on reaching my breasts, they took hold of them and gently stroked my sensitive skin before the nipples were held between forefinger and thumb. The sensation was remarkable and made me squeeze my legs together as much as I could with the man's body kneeling between them.

Having spent time on my breasts, the hands flowed down my body and over my tummy. I anticipated where they were headed, so I spread my legs to give them room. Sure enough, though now just fingertips, they traced over my woman's gentle parts, causing me to shudder, before they went up my legs, forcing them apart, if the merest pressure that was being applied could be called force.

I felt that the spreading of my legs had opened up my special place and my scent joined those already in the room. The fingers found my folds and stroked up and down as the thumbs opened me up wider. I found it so arousing, thinking of what the man could see and wondered what would happen next. The hand on my left leg moved away briefly and then I felt something run up and down my crease. It was too hard for a man's desire for a woman, it was too hard for a finger, it was smooth like a river washed stone, but felt warm and slippery. The aroma of a scented oil filled the air as the second hand slid away up my leg and was gone.

The object moved its way into my body, feeling thicker than a finger, but less than a cock as it tunnelled into me. It was shaped at the tip in a way that made me feel its movement and I had to grab the furs with both hands to prevent me from interfering.

Now the phallic object, I don't know a better name, started to move in and out, but also twisted and rocked as it did so, especially stimulating the front wall of my sheath, and my breaths got shorter as my pleasure rose. Then it suddenly went deeper, and something touched that most tender part of my womanhood, first pressing and then stroking from side to side, before it retreated to let the shape at the tip stimulate me again.

The object kept working its magic on me and I whimpered as I got close to my point of ecstasy, something Wynne rarely gave me. I cried out in my pleasure. The object continued to work on me until I had completed my release, and I lay there panting as if I had just been running after an escaped sow. Then it slowly withdrew, gently stroking my folds and tender-spot before disappearing.

Hands now gently brought my legs together and I felt the robe close over me and the belt tighten.

Hands met mine and I was helped to sit up, then stand, before being led to the door and the same pattern of knocks resulted in me being transferred back to Linelle. Once in the hall, the tie on the hood was released and the gown removed. I saw my normal clothes and, stepping out of the special shoes, I went and got dressed with Linelle's help. Despite being made of the finest wool they felt so harsh on my skin compared to that special gown.

Linelle led me to the door from the hall that led into the night, and I slowly walked back to Wynne's house in the moonlight as the frost started to form on the grass.