(It would be best to reach chapters 1 -- 4 first)
I was in my wedding dress. It was a simple white affair my Mother had put together from some soft linen she had acquired. I felt wonderful. I know that my husband would think this dress is perfect.. He is a practical man who would not want our family to spend lavishly on our wedding. My hair was adorned with flowers my sister had picked this morning. I had some soft slippers that, along with a little perfume and makeup, were the only extravagances my family had indulged in to make me presentable for my marriage.
Though I had used the makeup and perfume, I doubted these were even necessary. My fiancé had told me I would be perfect in his eyes even if I wore a bedsheet. I think that was a sexual allusion, but I was uncertain. I was sure I would find out, I smiled as I thought of the night to come. He was so gorgeous. His chiseled face on top of that strong blacksmith's body encasing his enormous, generous heart. He had an intimidating bearing, but he would never hurt me. I had never been with a man. I knew most virgin brides were anxious, but I could not wait to spend the night with him. I was infatuated with him from the moment I saw him. I had been unable to take my eyes off of him. My infatuation quickly blossomed to love after we finally met and spoke with each other. He was perfect.
He had come to our little town because of the looming threat of war. Blacksmiths were in high demand as our country had a sudden need for their skills in the making of weapons. Most of the skilled smiths in our town had gone to work making weapons. The one remaining smith had taken ill, and word spread of a need for a replacement. Convinced his little village could do without his services for a few weeks, he had travelled to our town to fill in for a time. He might have been motivated to fill his pockets too, though he never overcharged for his work. He planned to return to his village with some extra coin. I promised myself that he would also return with a wife.
I was surely a distraction, coming to his forge to watch him as he worked. The first sight of his shirtless body at work made me gasp. I never actually got over that sight and I looked for any excuse to be with him. I meekly offered help, expecting him to tell me that a slight waif like myself was unsuited to hard work. He did not, however, giving me unskilled tasks like fetching water and working the bellows. He may have expected me to give up in exhaustion, but I would have done anything to spend time with him. He needed the help and he ordered me about. His instructions were firm, but never harsh. I found that obeying him excited me.
Of course my parents noticed that I had begun neglecting the chores on our farm while spending my days at the forge. At first, my mother was appalled to see how smitten I was. She warned me against strange men from other towns and demanded to meet this man who had captured all my attention. When he came to our home for dinner, he alleviated her anxieties quickly. It was clear he was an honorable man.
I began to worry he was too honorable. He had yet to even lay a hand on me, though I had given him ample opportunity. He mostly seemed not even to look at me. My efforts grew increasingly shameless, and I wore less and less when I came to work with him. I would stretch myself and arch my back to display my breasts underneath thin fabric, but it seemed not to move him.
I wondered whether one of the other village girls had caught his eye. He had no shortage of admirers. That horrible blond miller's daughter, Ella, was constantly flirting with him. She would laugh as she wiggled her lithe little body in front of him. I had hoped he would have no interest in the empty-headed Ella. But who knows what men like?
Finally, at the end of a long day, I found him staring straight at me for a long time. The thin, low cut shift I wore clung to my body after hours near the hot forge, leaving little to the imagination. He stepped towards me. I could hardly move. The look in his eye was altogether different than what I had seen in him before. My heart raced as he touched my cheek with his strong hand. I kissed it softly.
"Kayla," he whispered, "dear sweet Kayla. The day after tomorrow, I must return to my home."
My heart sank. Was he saying goodbye? I pressed myself to his chest. I wanted to be strong and choked back a sob.
He grasped my arms in his strong hands and gently pushed me back. I looked up, anxiously. He seemed to be holding me more than pushing me away.
"I would take you with me," he said solemnly, as he looked into my eyes. "As my wife."
I gasped. Joy overcame me. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled my lips to his. His hands slid to my back. His lips parted to mine. The kiss was electric. I could not bear to stop. I wanted him then and there.
He could sense it and broke our embrace. "So that is a yes, then?" He laughed at my vigorous nods. "But not just yet my eager bride. We shall wait until our wedding night. It will be all the sweeter."
How could he resist? I certainly had no such control. At his insistence we walked hand in hand to my home, so he could ask my Father's permission to marry me. My parents were delighted and anxious all at once. My Mother cried, knowing I would be moving far away, and she would see me infrequently, if ever. My Father expressed grave concern that my future husband's village was on the border with the warlike neighboring kingdom. In the end, my Father could see how much I loved him and that he was a good man. I would be happy and that is all they wanted.
So now I stood in this dress my Mother had hastily prepared. It was perfect. I would be perfect. He would love it. We would say our vows and be happy together, forever. My Father walked me to my husband's side and placed my hand in his. The whole ceremony was a blur. I could not imagine greater joy as I heard him promise to love and cherish me forever. We kissed and I felt like we had become one person. A modest feast followed with some dancing and singing. The other girls who had made eyes at him were jealous, but surely they could see our love was nothing they could have matched. Everyone seemed delighted. My Mother cried, but her sadness at losing me mixed with joy. I could not wait for it to end and be alone with my husband.
Finally, he carried me to his room. I was weightless in my arms. I could not stop kissing him as he carried me. When we arrived in the room, he put me down and I stood before him as his bride. He looked at me, his eyes filled with love. He took my hair in his hands and caressed slowly. Even when I had thought he was ignoring me, he had told me how much he liked my hair. Now he could touch it whenever he wanted.
I reached up to untie the strings that held the dress on my shoulders as I stared into his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, I slide the dress down my body, exposing one inch of myself to my husband at a time. He watched closely. The dress puddled at my feet and I stepped out. I removed my undergarments with the same, slow deliberate pace. I wanted every movement to say, "I am yours." Finally, I stood before him, naked and stared into his eyes.
"Husband... " I started to say, but I was interrupted by his kiss. He could stand no more as he pressed his lips to mine. His hands were on my cheeks, pulling my face to his. I was lost in his kiss, but my hands operated on their own, undoing the buttons on his shirt. He straightened up, pulling it off of him with one motion. And then he returned his lips to mine. I had seen his chest many times in the forge, but somehow now, it rippled like it never had before.
My eyes closed I could feel out tongues dance together. My hands, again with a mind of their own, undid his trousers, sliding them down. Only when he was naked too did I press my body against his. I had never been with a man. I had no idea what it would be like. I only knew that I wanted this man. I wanted my husband inside me.
He lifted me onto the bed, my body weightless again. I cooed with pleasure as I stretched out for him. He climbed atop me, pressing his lips to mine again. He could not get enough of my kiss, I thought. It pleased me to think on how long and how often we could kiss. It lasted an eternity, it seemed. Time held no meaning, so long as our lips were locked together.
We needed no more words. That must be why he kissed me when tried to speak. We had said the vows. We were promised to each other for eternity. We would live together, work together, and have children together, I thought. Forever together. What more need be said? My legs slid around his. I had had no instruction, as my mother had spent her time hastily preparing my dress. But my body seemed to do it all for me. Well, his body did it, too. I had no idea whether he had ever been with a woman before. I did not care. He was mine. That was all that mattered. He was mine and I wanted him to take me.
I could feel him press against my tender flesh. I could feel he was about to enter me. Somehow I should be frightened, given all the fear my Mother had put into me about sex. But I had no fear. I knew this was where I belonged. I knew this was what I should be doing. I felt him press harder. I felt a little pain as he pushed into me, but it passed quickly, giving way to something I had never felt before. My whole body tingled.
