Disclaimer and mild spoiler (skip italics if you want to enter the story fresh):
If you are the type of person who doesn't enjoy stories that feature extramarital sex (that's fine), heads up that this one isn't for you
!
A Surprise Visitor
The cottage looked wonderful in the early June light. Aline felt the heat of the afternoon sun on her face, tempered by a nice, cool breeze coming from the sea. Her husband Thomas waved at her as he headed down to the bay to fish for their supper.
They had been living on the island for nearly two years now, having moved there a few weeks after their honeymoon. They shared the island with about two dozen other families of various compositions. It was by no means a large isle, but it was big enough that everyone had a modicum of privacy. Their neighbours were good folk and, with the small islands surrounding their own, it was a nice little community a few hundred strong.
Aline and Thomas had a plan to build another cottage on their land so that Thomas' mother, Sylvie, could move in next to them from the city. Sylvie was a widow and had happily accepted the proposition when Aline and Thomas had revealed to her that they wanted to start trying for a baby. It helped that Sylvie was a fine woman and got along well with her daughter-in-law.
They needed some extra funds to buy the materials necessary for the new hut they were to build. With Thomas headed into town the next day, he would be able to earn enough bartering their goods in the city for a few weeks to buy the materials as well as provisions for winter, and to bring everything back to the island. The neighbours had already offered to pitch in to help build the foundation. With some weather luck, the second home would be ready by early winter before the heavy snowfalls.
Aline prepared an outdoor cooking fire while she awaited her husband's return from the waterside. He was a little later than she expected but she didn't mind; She took in the sunset and smiled thinking about what this would feel like a few years from now with a couple of kids running around.
A shout woke her from her daydream. It was Thomas.
He was coming up from the waterside. In his arms was no fish, but with a man who looked like he was near death. Thomas had the man's arm around his shoulder and held him tight around the waist to keep him upright.
"Aline! Put some water on the fire! I'll lay him down in the stable," said Thomas.
Aline shot a worried glance at the man her husband was carrying. It was clear by his appearance that he was a viking, and vikings meant trouble in these parts.
Part of the reasons they had chosen to live on this island was that it was remote and tricky to navigate to. It was not particularly wealthy or populated, which made it an unappealing target for pillagers who preferred the more bountiful shores to the South-West.
Aline looked beyond the two men to see if anyone else was at the shore, any other threat, but it was just Thomas and the man.
"Aline! The water, quickly! He won't make it past the night without our help."
Half an hour later, she was by her husband's side. They had disinfected, sutured, and bandaged a bad looking wound near the man's shoulder blade. He was feverish and came in and out of consciousness. At times, the man stiffened and cried out, and Thomas needed all of his strength to keep him immobilized to avoid ripping his stitches and bleeding out the little blood he had left.
Eventually, the man fell asleep.
"If he makes it past tonight, he'll have a chance," said Thomas. In that moment, Aline felt deep love for her husband. He was a kind man who probably hadn't thought twice about bringing a murderous barbarian into their home and to help him. Aline had lost an uncle to raiders, and had been raised with a clear distaste for vikings and their like.
"Maybe we should stop helping him," she told her husband.
"Don't joke like that... What if this was someone you knew? Would you let him die?" he said.
"But I don't know this man. He isn't like us, Thomas. Look at him. He's a viking. A murderer. Suppose we help him, he gets better... and then what? What if he is violent? What if he feigns friendliness, leaves, and then returns with his asshole viking friends and they kill everyone on our island for sport?!"
Aline could see in his expression that Thomas had not thought through this scenario. "Shit," he said, "...but still. Could we really do it? Look at him. He's a pussycat now. And even if he does get better, my father was a military man and trained me to fight, I used to take on men twice my size! I'll keep us safe. And in any case he'll see that we don't have much on this island other than fish, vegetables, and goats. I doubt that will get a bunch of vikings riled up about going to sea for weeks."
Thomas puffed up his chess and thumped it with bravado. "Come on you lollygaggers, let's get to that island, mutton and radishes await us!"
Aline wanted to stay fierce and angry, but she couldn't resist her husband's charm. They shared a laugh. Deep down she had known that this would be the result of the argument as she didn't think she could have let a man die, even if that man was an asshole viking.
Tending To The Sick
Five days later, Aline was waving goodbye to Thomas, who was sailing away to the city. If all went well, he would be back in three weeks with the materials for their new cottage and his mother in tow. Sylvie would stay with the neighbours who lived nearby to the North and had an extra little cottage for visitors until her place was ready. The same neighbours promised Thomas they would visit Aline regularly to make sure she was doing fine and that their patient wasn't causing any trouble.
The viking had survived his feverish night and still hung on to life, looking a little better each day. They had called on a wise-woman, Julianne, who lived on the next island. Julianne commended them for saving the man's life, adding that it would probably be weeks before he walked again, if he managed to survive his ordeal. She gave Aline some directions on treating the wound with herbs she could gather around the island and told her she would be back in a few days to check in on him.
The fact that the Viking would stay bedridden for weeks and that their neighbour had agreed to visit Aline were the only things that had convinced Thomas to go along with their plan. He had been somewhat reluctant to leave his wife in this situation.
Aline, a little bit more pragmatic at heart, had a surprising turnaround and overcame her initial hesitations about the man when it dawned upon her that the alternative was them losing a whole season's worth of sales and having to put off their family plans for another year. This trip was their only window to get the right materials before they had to winter, which restricted the possibilities of sailing over longer distances. No way was she going to compromise that for the sake of some viking. When he finally yielded to her will and made towards the boat, Aline jokingly began shooing her husband off the island, making a little of show of it to the great entertainment and laughter of neighbours who had gathered to see away others heading to the city with Thomas.
The mystery of the Viking and how he had ended up on their island had not been resolved, although everyone seemed to have a theory. He had washed up on a small raft in which there was nothing other than a fur. Whoever had marooned him had probably judged that his hours were limited and that he had a better chance at survival as a stowaway.
It hadn't helped that the Viking had not said a word in the common tongue, and only a few in his own, since his arrival. He still looked frail, but on occasion he would be fully conscious and aware. Julianne described this and his lowering fever as "good omens."
Once, when she had brought him some bread for breakfast, she was surprised to see him sitting up and taking in the morning light. When she handed him over the food, he had had the gall pull her in and grope one of her breasts, growling in appreciation at its size. She turned on him and slapped him across the cheek. He stared back at her looking nearly as shocked as she was, and looking guileless of all things! She could live with herself helping him survive, but she certainly wouldn't be some viking's plaything.
She took out her carving knife and glared at the man, "if you touch me again, you'll taste this blade! I assure it stings more than a slap."
The man didn't respond or react, but seemed to grow a little meeker, understanding the message. She left him to his thoughts.
A day later, the Viking's health took a turn for the worse. His fever returned and when she placed a hand against his forehead he pushed it downwards forcibly, saying something in his native tongue. Aline had her knife handy, but the man's grip was much weaker than it had been the previous day and it was easy for her to free herself.
"I can't understand you," she told him.
"Need... I need to..." he barely had the energy to talk.
"Oh great, now you speak the common tongue. Why didn't you do this from the start?"
Aline went quiet as she could tell he was using up all his energy. "I need to... sacrifice to Freya. Only... way to survive...need to give my seed..." he said.
"What are you saying? You're not making any sense!" Aline went quiet when she saw that he was trying to get her to look at something. He was pointing towards his legs.
She followed his finger and saw that he was not pointing to his legs but to his penis. His very erect penis.
