Chapter Text
The well-muscled but slight woman brought down Hretha's Ire on the magical barrier. Her blades hadn't scratched it, but it cracked with the first blow from the hammer and shattered with the second. A blizzard sprang up - no, it was too strong for that. A blizzard had already been blowing and was now all around her. Atanka grimaced at the cold and tried to get her bearings, but she seemed to be alone, far from the barrier. Had it been a trap?
The wind slacked off. A clearing, in the forest - best get to cover. But not turn her back on the clearing, she was clearly expected... *thump*. Wait, that didn't feel like a tree. Spin, and? A bald Northerner. Not angry, not looking at her. A *big* guy, even by their standards, and handsome. He flicked his eyes down to her and then nodded toward the opposite side of the clearing. More of them coming from the wood, and behind them a woman with a more elaborate skull-helm and a clearly-magic staff. None looked happy to see her. Or to see the bald one.
He spoke, quietly. "Hail, outlander. I do not know you, but that hammer proves you a worthy ally. Fight beside me against this common enemy."
She nodded. "Happy to. We charge on your mark?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"Mark."
They charged, him with a bloodcurdling warcry and she silently. The woman was a witch and a healer, but not personally tough, so while the big man occupied most of her escort, Atanka focused on disrupting her spellcasting and disabling the elite hunters guarding her. When she was worn down enough, a few seconds of focus broke her staff and her spirit. Trading her shield for one of her knives, Atanka lifted her unconscious torso half to standing and visibly held the knife at her throat, shouting for attention.
"Drop your weapons and go, and I let you live. Do it quickly, and I may include your shaman. Am I understood?"
The hunters paused, but kept their axes brandished. The lesser tribemen paled, and half turned to flee.
The big man's face showed surprise, but tempered with approval. He kicked his current opponent to the ground and looked around for which men were still going to resist. Better check he was onboard.
"Big man! I didn't get your name. Are you onboard with the offer of surrender? Grudges to settle with this whole tribe?"
"Just with the shaman, little woman. She dies today."
"Alright, my offer of protecting the shaman is withdrawn. Anyone still want to fight us?"
A muffled clatter tinkled across the snow as one raider after another dropped their blade and fled. The hunter elite had more courage; one planted his sword in the dirt and held onto the bolas as he backed slowly out of the clearing, the other lowered his axe to a relaxed position but made no move to leave.
"Two on one, really? You think that will end well for you?"
"The tribe must witness the shaman's death and who her killer was. It is more important than interfering."
"Big guy, is that true?"
"Colbjorn. Most likely, yes. He wants to know which of us the vendetta will belong to."
"Atanka. Should we cooperate with his plan?", she said as she withdrew the blade, dropped the shaman, and knelt to retrieve her shield.
He waited a moment to respond, as if thinking. Just as she left her crouch, shield secure, he broke his silence: "Mark."
They charged, and ended him quickly. Colbjorn inflicted some ritual scarring on the shaman, which woke her, then slit her throat cleanly and let her bleed out.
They walked together to the edge of the woods in amiable silence, and found her horses, cart, and driver. She expected to part ways with the Northerner, but he cleared his throat.
"Atanka. We fought together well, and I am no longer welcome in clan lands. Would you care to journey together for a time?"
She smiled, surprised but pleased, "Certainly. Nice to have a big guy like you at my back in a fight. And maybe even as a friend?"
His grin was thin, but seemed honest. "I have found I am a unlucky friend to have, but I am happy to have our paths align." He extended his hand.
She returned the gesture and grasped the forearm in the northern style. They shook. "Welcome aboard, Colbjorn. You're welcome with me on the road, for as long as you're willing and able."
"The mountain will be cold, and treacherous for horses. We'll take what we can, but I think it's best if just me and Colbjorn make the ascent."
Atanka's horse-boy nodded, looking more relieved than anything. "Will your armor be warm enough? They say the blizzards are daily on Mount Freydis."
"The boiled leather and good wool will do, I think. Furs would be warmer, but not protective enough, we're likely to have to fight much of our way up. No offense, Col, you're just a lot better at taking hits than me."
"Northmen are tough and hard, I don't expect that from southerners. Even tough ones like you."
"Should I be insulted or flattered?", she replied sardonically. He just quirked his eyebrow in response.
She turned back to the boy. "Get those clothes and armor laid out, I'm going to go talk to the general. Alone, he knows I work with Col but he doesn't like it." Both men nodded, and she headed off.
She was back in a little more than an hour. "He's given me treaty terms to deliver. Apparently we should be sure to get blessings from as many priests and witches as we can, to avoid a fight."
Colbjorn snorted. "Ignorant lowlander buffoon, that general. Knows just enough about northern ways to parley with confidence he doesn't deserve. She'll demand a fight either way. Giants honor the gods, but they only respect strength."
"So she'll set some champions and we fight them to demonstrate we're worth respecting? Hopefully not her personally."
"If we want to leave rather than fight her chosen champions, we'll get to leave. Parley-bringers get guest right."
"Have I mentioned today how glad I am to have you? This would be hopeless without a northerner to ask. Also probably terrifying, because I'd be expecting to fight her and... well, together we'd probably have a chance. Alone, I wouldn't. A good chance of dying well, maybe."
"You're my favorite hellion, Atanka."
"Flatterer. Back to the giant-queen: Any chance she'll consider the treaty?"
"Assuming we can beat her champions... it's probably possible."
"Well. She won't harm us for asking, at least. Time to face the mountain?"
"Indeed."
The first blizzard was fierce. They made slow progress, holding tight to a cliff wall, but it was a hard climb. The second was worse. They kept moving for about a half-hour before giving up on progress and looking for a cave. It was still damn cold, even next to the fire.
"Jealous of your furs, now."
"We don't wear them just because they're cheap."
"I probably should have figured that out before today, and yet...
I'm a little worried I'll get frostbite overnight."
"Unlikely. But lesser damage than frostbite could slow you down."
"Should we...share body heat? All the blankets over us both?"
"That would be wise. Don't want to freeze the 'hell' out of you, hellion."
She suppressed a sly grin; it would be more fun as a surprise.
"Okay, we can do that. After supper, I think the roots are baked enough now."
He just grunted and poked the base of the campfire.
They rolled the cocoon of wool and fur around them and drew it in tight, only a foot or two away from the coals of the campfire. Soon they were snugly spooning, Colbjorn facing in and Atanka out. It was a tight fit.
"Alright, Atanka. Sleep well."
"Might be tricky, I can't get comfortable."
"Well. Move how you need to."
"I will", she said, and he thought he heard a bit of mockery in her voice. What was the joke? He was quickly distracted from wondering, because Atanka was...wriggling. Back and forth. Which was grinding her body against him. Several parts of him, in fact, but one was particularly relevant. And becoming moreso every second.
"Could you...perhaps...get comfortable with slightly less movement?"
"Sorry, is something wrong?" And there was the mocking tone again. Her motions slowed slightly, but he was getting stiffer by the moment. Could she really not tell?
Oh. Of course. She was doing it deliberately.
"Did you consider asking, at any point, before trying to seduce me while we were stuck sharing warmth on the king of mountains for a week? Possibly without me noticing?"
"Like you'd turn me down."
"I'm quite sure you're resistible."
"Not to you, though. I've been trying to get your attention for, what, three months. And you insisted on barely looking even while I took a bath in plain view, but you could barely tear yourself away. Yes, I noticed."
"You, Atanka, are a terror."
"A really hot one, though."
"..."
She didn't continue. Except by renewing the intensity of her grinding.
Damn her. It was true.
He grabbed her with a snarl and twisted her bodily, until she was flat on her back on the floor and he was on top of her.
"Ooh. Do I get a kiss?"
"No. If you wanted gentle you should have seduced a southerner. Or tried courting first. Obnoxious teasing whores get treated like whores. Have to teach you manners somehow."
...That came out more fierce than he'd expected it to. Frustration and an erection together were not good for thinking or speaking clearly.
She just giggled with a smirk.
He put his weight on one of her arms and snarled in her - hellishly sexy - smirking face. And shoved his hand up from her belt upwards - only to meet far more resistance than he expected.
"Damn this leather. No give to it, and it's not safe to strip you of it in this cold. I can't even handle the goods you're offering me."
"Oh, no, will I just be teasing you all night? What a shame!"
"Wench! You will get what's coming to you."
"I was hoping for 'coming for me' but I'll take it."
"Grrrrr." Hmmm. He would have more give if... yes. Without warning, he flipped her back over, pushing her face into the fur-lined floor. Now he could reach under her breastplate properly. And did.
Between her finally being distracted and his weight pushing down on her, the damn wriggling finally stopped. The moaning was almost as distracting, but at least he was mostly in control of that. After a few moments, he moved his other hand to her crotch and unhooked the bit of cuirass which covered it - thank the gods that needed to be separate to let her do the necessary, or he might not have managed to get any relief tonight. She nearly squeaked at the cold in the gap before his hand closed back on it.
There were some words bleeding into the moaning - honestly he couldn't quite make it out, she'd slipped back into her local dialect, but the tone was clearly "needy". Good; she deserved a little torment. One hand pinching her tit and the other teasing her clit should teach her the right lesson.
Oh, look at the whimper showing up in those moans. Yep, lesson being taught.
"Now you know what happens to dirty little whores who tease me. So, what are you going to do, girl?"
"Ohhhh...please. Please let me."
"That's what I'm going to do. Or not do. Depending on how I like your answer. What will you do?"
"Enough teasing, please! I've learned my lesson. I won't do it again! Please, please, pl-"
He cut her off with his right hand, slipped out of her top and gently around her throat. "Think carefully, tart. Time's running out."
The whimper was firmly lodged in her voice and edging toward a sob, now. "No! Please. I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm a teasing whore. Please. Please take me. I need it. Need you. Take me! Please!"
"Careful what you say, girl. We northerners are raiders. What we take we don't give up."
"Gods...please. Don't - so cruel. Take me. Please! Can't bear it!"
"If I take you, you're mine. Mine to keep. You want that, dirty girl?"
"Ohyes. Please. Make me yours. Takemeplease!"
"Please what?"
"..please, sir?"
"Chief."
"Please, chief! Take me! Need you. Need you in me! Take your dirty girl, please! Ohhhhhhh..."
"Mmmmmm."
He pushed the remaining obstacles aside, and well and truly claimed her body. Which was very satisfying for him, and nearly delirium-inducing for her.
In the sticky afterglow, all armor was replaced and his hands rested gently around her waist and throat.
In the morning, Atanka woke with a rosy, floaty feeling and wasn't immediately sure why. As the previous night came back to her, she was first very smug that her scheme to seduce Colbjorn had worked, and then very, very embarrassed at what she'd done after it had. Gods, had she been that much of a submissive little doll? After only a couple minutes of teasing?
...The sex had been even better than she'd hoped, though. If getting that airheaded was the price of Colbjorn pounding her, then she'd just have to get used to it, because there was no way she was going to have the willpower to turn him down. Damn.
Hopefully it wouldn't make him treat her as less worthy in a fight. Because if it did, she'd have to part ways. That, she could probably manage the willpower for. She thought. Probably with a few months of wet dreams afterwards.
All gods damn, it was going to be hard to focus. The cold wind would probably help, though. And if she was lucky he would be just as distracted.
It was around that thought when Colbjorn woke up. His instincts made him tighten his grip before he remembered why he was waking up in close quarters with someone else. It took less than a second to remember, but he was apologetic anyway.
"Atanka. Forgive me, I've awoken touching another person much more often in violence than pleasure."
She took a moment to reply, trying to keep the sudden surge of arousal out of her voice. "That makes sense," she said. Hearing her own voice made her realize she had not succeeded. Too late to stop, "That's a good instinct to have, usually."
He heard it. Presumably. He hid his feelings much better than she had.
"Yes. Still, I will try not to repeat it."
Oh, gods, he implied they'd have more sex later. She should not be a giddy girl over the moon that the man she'd just finished screwing before she fell asleep wanted to do it again. She absolutely should not ask him to rail her again before they even got up. She was a grown woman not ruled by her libido. She had managed several months of not constantly having sex with Colbjorn, she could manage a half-hour of it now.
Crap, she'd been silent long enough that he'd probably noticed.
"Yes, we're going to have more later, hellion." (...yeah, he'd noticed.) "But first we have a mountain to finish climbing. And some rival tribes to fight together."
She sighed with relief before she could help herself.
"Hmm?"
"I'd worried you wouldn't respect my ability to fight, after we slept together. Especially, ah, given how submissive I. Was last night. That... was a complete surprise to me. Not something I've done with anyone else."
His hands brushed against her armor, but she couldn't tell why-
"Another point against that damn leather - can't caress you through it at all. I've got to get you some proper furs."
"I don't think that's really the most import-"
"Did you not accept me as your chief? I'm in charge. And I say you switch to furs as soon as possible."
Ohgod she melted again at him ordering her. There went any chance of pretending she was only that pliable when extremely horny.
"Are we clear, my hellion?"
Annnd being ordered around as 'his hellion' was even hotter. Okay, that she could definitely live with.
"Yes."
"You know that's not how you say it."
"...Yes, chief. Sorry, chief.
But if you're going to give me any more orders this morning we're not going to make much progress today because I will be daydreaming of repeating last night all gods-damned day."
"As pleasant as that would be, yes, we have a pointless message to deliver. We'll both have to wait."
The waiting was difficult, especially since the blizzard had passed. But she managed. A trio of berserks tried to take their heads, and he fought at her side as much an equal as ever. Twice, snow squalls hit and they bunkered down for a half hour beneath the snow to wait them out. It was... a little difficult not to jump his bones then. But they traded stories of past battles, and then some of the first times they'd gone drinking and how they'd ended. And kissed, which didn't help but didn't make things worse. She mentioned that she found it incredibly attractive being called hellion in his 'chief voice', and he responded with the biggest smile she'd ever seen on him. He was glad. The side of her he found most attractive was the hellion, especially his hellion. So that quickly turned into further kisses.
Just before dark some snow goblins ambushed them, so when they made camp in another cave, they were too exhausted for any more sex. It felt unthinkable, was unthinkable a few hour earlier. But they fell asleep in each other's arms, and that was good enough.
They didn't make up for it the next morning, either. At least, not nearly as much as she wanted.
The third night they reached one of the outer camps surrounding the giant-queen's fortress. It was a wooden longhouse of a clan not well-known to Colbjorn, Eagleclaw, but without feuds with his own. Some blades were quietly drawn when they saw Atanka wasn't a northerner, but they didn't move on them. Someone in finer furs - not a chief, Atanka thought, but chief's kin or chosen guard - approached Colbjorn.
"Hail, exile of Eyebright. Why are you here?"
"The southerners entrusted my woman with parley terms for the Priestess. She climbs the mountain in order to deliver it. I escort her, because she is no fool, and so asked for escort from the tribesman she trusts."
"And why are you in our longhouse?"
"Because we tire of caves and wish to face the priestess well-rested. We have gold and goods to trade for a warm room for the night. And for some proper furs for my woman, southern garb is not useful nor fitting."
"Hmm. I may make trades for my chief. And there is a room you might buy with warmth and," he trailed off briefly with a lascivious look at Atanka, "...privacy. But trade is not for the main hall. Follow me. Torste, guard the door behind us."
The drawn blades were placed back in their sheaths, except the one belonging to, presumably, Torste, which he kept at his side.
They entered a small, smokier room, with a round table and four stump stools. He gestured for them to sit.
"If the skalds are truthful, your name is Colbjorn. I am Roarge, brother to Chief Njalt of Eagleclaw. Who is the southern girl?"
"The skalds are, in that wise, truthful. She is a mighty shield-maiden, and, as you see, quite pretty. I call her my hellion. If I am not to be forgiven by my clan of birth, I may found my own, and she will be very fine stock for that purpose."
Atanka's knees went a little weak. Those compliments mixed with treating her like a possession... was he doing that on purpose?
"I do see. I suppose if you cannot get a proper tribe's shield-maiden she might do. But, to the trade. Shall we start with the room?"
"We may start there. We have some short blades we do not need for battle - hellion, fetch them from the pack - and good gold coins. Empire, but their coins are far purer than their hearts."
"This I know, though I will test one nonetheless. But with a room must come the clan's protection, and you of all the tribesmen need that-"
"No. We bring parley, we have guest rights. At most we pay for the skald to tell that to the longhouses near."
"Parley that will never be accepted."
"We bring it. My hellion is not a fool, it matters not that the southern general who paid her to deliver it is. The priestess holds to the old ways, all know this. My own tale is proof, is it not?"
"Hah! Well said. Very good..."
They continued for some minutes, and Atanka was extremely glad she'd brought Colbjorn. She did not understand half the things they haggled over, and stayed still and silent except when her lover ordered her otherwise. She knew she was not trusted, and so it would be better not to draw attention to that. Eventually, they reached a partial agreement, and shook. The spare blades for a private room, much like this one but with a fur-stuffed bedroll, near the hearth-end of the longhouse. If she understood right, it was a room usually reserved for the cousins of the chief, who were currently on a raid. Colbjorn put his arm around her after, possessively. Then he continued.
"The other matter: Furs. Proper battle-worthy ones, she is a shield-maiden."
"Battle-worthy furs are not easy to come by. Would you have us field raiders with only warmth, no protection?"
"Would you have me believe you make only the number you need, without one spare set in the hall?"
"Unlike Clan Eyebright, Eagleclaw musters for war alongside its cousin clans. Spare sets were traded to those without."
"A story most convenient for you, but one I cannot easily dispute. Very well. I can trade her leathers. They are unfamiliar and awkward but will protect well."
"They look shabby and weak to me. Why should I believe you?"
"They served well enough against wolves and stray berserks on the climb up. She is cold and unsuitably attired for a northman's woman, not vulnerable."
"And I believe the wolves attacked due to what?"
"Would you truly claim that two might climb the great mountain unassailed? One of them not of the tribes? Truly, you are a master of skaldry."
"Perhaps. I will test one of these for myself as well. If they are fine enough, I will not harm the clan by exchanging warrior's furs for them. But that leaves the question of value."
"A question based much in their strength. Girl, hand Roarge your leathers. He will just stall until we do."
The possessive arm around her had lulled Atanka into a comfortable daydream, but she jolted back to the room.
"-hand?"
"You heard me. I said you were not a fool, don't make me a liar. Remove the leathers and hand them to the man for inspection."
She felt a little thrill. "-As you command."
The woolens under the armor were made for padding, not modesty. She didn't feel naked, but the warm breeze blowing through the places previously covered made her thoughts drift that way rapidly. It was an effort to stay focused. One not helped at all by Colbjorn slightly spanking her as she bent to remove the greaves, or by his hand cupping her breast as she stood again. She turned her gaze to him, both to marginally conceal her emotions from the stranger, and because those emotions were confusion and lust, both of which wanted him to resolve. She'd totally lost track of the haggling...she hoped it would be done quickly. She wanted to get into that room, more desperately every second.
"...Yes, alright, the leather is protection enough against spear and club. None at all against cold."
"And do you claim you have a shortage of thrall-furs as well? This I will not believe, your hall is not so poor."
"Do you claim they can be worn properly with this garb? I would needs have some altered just to suit."
"Perhaps. So what do you demand? Is the armor to be refused because you will not sew?"
"Southern garments of good warmth could do, your girl wore them together."
"I am not a lordling, to carry extra sets of clothing on my back for vanity's sake. Nor on hers."
"It seems to me that you have at least one set nonetheless."
-wait, was he suggesting what Atanka thought?
"Ah. I see your game. Would your chief approve of you including personal desires in a deal for clan goods?"
"I have made him far more with shrewd trading than I am forgoing here, my brother would not begrudge me my whim."
"Hmph. A straight trade, no gold. And remember that she is mine."
"Done."
They shook again. Roarge stood to open the door.
"Torste, fetch Ulfhild's war furs. And be quick, we shook on the deal."
Torste nodded and trotted off, and Roarge closed the door again. Atanka went back into her reverie for a moment, but was quickly interrupted.
"Hellion. Stand."
In the mood she was in, she obeyed without thinking as soon as she realized she was being addressed.
"Turn. Slowly. Continue until I say otherwise."
-he was showing her off to Roarge. Had to be. When she was faced Roarge's direction, she saw the undisguised lust in his eyes. Looking at her curves and imagining the flesh underneath. The door opened again, and a bundle was passed to Colbjorn behind her. He shook it out over the table and grunted approvingly.
"As promised. Right. Girl: strip. The man gets what he bargained for."
"-what he-?"
"You heard me. Don't make me tell you again."
Oh gods this was humiliatingly hot.
"Yes, chief."
She stripped. Hesitatingly, but unceremoniously; she didn't want to draw this out. There wasn't even a cold wind to blame for her hard nipples, or anything to blame for her sopping-wet snatch. She really, really hoped the room was ready for them immediately.
When everything was removed, she handed the messy bundle of wool toward Roarge, looking away. She set it down on the table and reached for the furs, but Colbjorn took her hand.
"No. Turn, again."
She nearly orgasmed on the spot. She whispered her reply, not trusting her voice to stay steady.
"...yes, chief"
She stood with her arms at her sides, but he pulled them behind her, tugging them down to a parade rest that pushed out her chest. She held them there as she spun, desperately telling herself it would only be a few minutes to wait. Mercifully, she only completed two turns before he said, simply,
"Enough. Dress."
She hadn't worn furs like this before, and was pretty sure she wasn't putting them on correctly. She was too busy telling herself she would have them ripped off momentarily to care. Distantly some part of her noticed that everyone in the longhouse who looked her way would probably realize she was wearing them wrong, and while she'd be protected from prying eyes, prying ears would quickly tell them why she'd dressed so hastily. She heard the door quickly open and shut behind her, and Roarge was gone next time she looked up. Which just left her lover, watching her distractedly dress. And not helping in the least. When her modesty was temporarily secured and she didn't have any portions of the fur with an obvious place to put them, he took pity on her, pushed the remaining pieces into her pack, and pulled her into an embrace.
"Good girl. My delectable hellion. Time to get your reward."
This time she really did orgasm on the spot. The hug let her feel his erection, which probably contributed.
"Yes, chief. Thank you, chief."
"Embarrassment looks good on you. But let's go."
She nearly ran, even without totally knowing where they were headed. As soon as Colbjorn was through, she shoved the door closed and started trying to loosen the furs. He interrupted her to do it more skillfully and - thank every god listening - faster than she'd put them on. And removed most of his own, at the same time. And then shoved her down on the cushioned bed and unceremoniously filled her cunt with cock.
...her orgasmic shout was probably audible in the next longhouse. The next few, only throughout the hall. And then she was full of come again. And still incredibly horny. Well, fuck.
Luckily, her chief was clever as well as hot and hung. "Use your mouth," he said, "Clean me."
Her "Yeesss, chieef" was very dreamy, but obeying his orders felt so natural she didn't need focus to do it. She bobbed up and down on his dick until it was back up, good and hard.
She paused to look up plaintively at her outrageously sexy dominant, too blissed-out to ask in words.
He knew what she wanted. "Yes, you may get on top of it now."
She tangled her limbs together slightly trying to simultaneously hug him for being so good to her and plant herself on his cock as fast as she could, which were, inconveniently, incompatible goals. He resolved it by grabbing her by the ass and tits and guiding her into place, where she could bounce ecstatically, coming to orgasm over and over before he filled her up again. This time, her shouts of pleasure had more words, though thankfully - well, for her future self who had overcome horniness enough to have room in her head for shame - also quieter, enough that the hall probably couldn't make out the words. Most of which were variations on "Oh gods", "Fuck yes", "Oh, chief", etc. In between orgasms, she mumbled many other things; "Need you", "Fuck me", and "'m yours" featured prominently. After a little prompting from her partner, she started repeating one variation over and over. "Take me keep me own me. Take me, keep me, own me," puncuated with moans. Her requested owner, for his part, was content to mostly express himself in pleased grunts and very tangible gestures. They cycled through this, licking him until he was clean and then riding him until she was dirty, two more times, with her getting more content, and more coherent, progressively. Eventually she was unable to get him back to full mast, and her need had calmed enough to be content with snuggles.
She drowsily whispered in his ear, "I'm a little worried, lover."
"Why?", he murmured back
"Our first two nights of sex were so mind-blowingly wonderful, how will any other night measure up?"
One hand dropped right down to her clit as her answered. "Tricky. But I own you now; I think I can manage."
Her pleased squirm was the last thing she remembered before falling asleep.
The next thing she remembered consciously was another orgasm. She woke with her cunt stuffed again, shaking slightly from the pleasure. Gods, she hadn't realized just how nice a warm bed could be. She let out an involuntary moan and got a quick kiss from her chief, before he shoved her face into a pillow and continued pounding her. Oh gods did she have the hottest fucking man in the world. She felt so godsdamn full, it was glorious.
After he made another mess inside her, he laid back down and embraced her, cupping her tits and pulling her back close in to his chest.
"Couldn't remember how hard you were to wake," he murmured, "So I thought I'd test it and see."
"Mmmmmm. Very good idea, sexy."
"Oh, have I been demoted from chief to 'sexy'? I don't think I approved that."
"No, chief. I'm promoting you to 'sexy chief'. Possibly 'world's hottest chief' but I'm not sure I can hand that out without some other women agreeing."
"Well, I've already been promoted to your owner so I don't think I need that one."
"-Owner?"
"You were pretty enthusiastic about requesting it, were you lying to your chief?"
Oh gods she did say that. Repeatedly. She was getting hornier just thinking about it.
"..nochief. Couldn't lie to you, chief.", she said in a small voice.
"So you still want me to own you, hellion?"
"...yesplease."
"Good. Just to make sure we agree, tell me what you want."
"-have to?"
"Yes."
"...my chief, please own me. take me, keep me, make this girl yours. bind me, control me, use me. ohgods. fuck me. please. fuck me now."
"Is that any way to talk to your owner?"
"no, chief. sorry, chief. your girl is extremely horny and desperate for another hard dicking. chief."
"Horny and desperate is my favorite kind of girl to own...but luckily for you, one of the things I like to do with one is to get her hooked on my cock."
"...think 'm hooked already, chief"
"Well, it can't hurt to make sure."
Any attempt to thank him was strangled by the firm shove of her crotch back onto his dick.
And several urgent minutes later they both nodded off again.
They next woke some hours later. This time they simply embraced and Atanka snuggled up against her big, lovely man, nearly purring with contentment.
After some minutes, she broke the silence, "Mmmhhhh. Colbjorn?"
"Hmm?"
"Am I your wife now?"
"Hnn. I think - yes. I may take others. But I promise to take good care of you."
She snuggled a little closer. "I didn't really doubt that."
"Of course not, you've seen the care I give my weapons."
"I'm your weapon, now?", she said, a little teasingly.
"My very favorite one.", he replied fondly.
"Mmmm. I love you, big guy." ...That just slipped out. Her mind raced: More vulnerability than she meant to show. But... well, he'd already claimed her as property. If she should be afraid of being vulnerable to him, it was probably a bit late. It would be fine? Probably?
He interrupted her train of thought with a pleased rumble: "And I you, hellion."
There was really only one response to that. She kissed him, as intensely as she knew how.
Later they got up, got dressed - putting on the furs properly this time, with her chief-husband-owner's help - and delivered their parley message to the high priestess. And fought the champions she sent out to them, and heard her flat refusal to accept any terms, but those weren't a surprise. And they returned down the mountain, told the general there would be no terms, and endured the odd looks Atanka got for being dressed as a northerner and the hostile looks Colbjorn got for being one. (There was no way she was leaving her love off to the side like he was something to be ashamed of. He was her owner, her love, her husband. The general could go fuck himself.) And left, looking for other adventures to be explored and battles to be fought. Together.
They were camped near a minor lord's castle, on a stakeout. Ignoble, but well-compensated, work for the thieves' guild, who had unsettled debts with the lordling. They couldn't do anything too distracting or keep a fire lit, so they just sat leaned against each other, wrapped in furs.
Atanka had a sudden thought.
"Huh. Chief, if you don't mind me asking? Back on the mountain, in Eagleclaw's longhouse. How did you know I would like being treated as your possession?"
"Hah. I didn't know, not immediately. I suspected, based on how you'd melted for me that first night. And it served an important purpose even if you didn't like it, so I was prepared to do it anyway and apologize for it if I was wrong."
"What purpose?"
"Most tribes - my own included, to be very frank - have a very low opinion of southerners; we tend to consider you weak and honorless. A strong southerner is a threat, and one that has to be defanged because honor will not keep them from betraying the tribe. As an independent partner, they'd want you disarmed until you left the longhouse, at best, and I wasn't sure they'd stick to honor over settling the priestess's grudge against me. Describing you as under my control - even if it wasn't true - made you more safe in their eyes."
"And you couldn't tell me that in advance?"
"Oh, no, I surely could have. Not warning you was just for fun."
"...You're lucky you're hot, or I would be very mad at you."
"I doubt that. I doubt it very much."
"If I wasn't so infatuated with submission for you, you really think I wouldn't have been furious? Even for ordering me to strip for a stranger?"
"No, by that point I was pretty sure. I wasn't groping you while you handed your armor over just for fun."
"Think I would have been mad for that part, too."
"I was careful to ramp it up slowly. Other than the initial exchange where I talked about you like a breeding mare - which I was sure I could apologize for - I treated you more like a thing by steps. And stayed several steps shy of what I was confident was arousing you."
"Sometimes I forget how clever you are when you want to be. You have a very good meathead act."
"Playing the unthinking barbarian warrior is relaxing. And easy, since your people assume all northmen are unless we're very obvious about it."
"Helps that you have so much meat below your head."
"Shush, you. If you keep on like that I'm going to have to punish you and then neither of us will be watching the castle."
"Sorry, chief."
He ran his fingers through her hair.
"You're forgiven. This time. But don't push it, or you will spend our next visit to town very embarrassed."
She just snuggled against him and nodded.
One drowsy morning, much later, dozing naked in her lovely husband-chief's arms inside their tent and bundle of furs, she reflected on how wonderful her life was. Spending every day exploring and fighting together, and every evening sex that was as passionate as the first nights on the mountain, if less desperate and urgent. (Usually. Sometimes she teased him too much one day and he punished her by turning her into a needy puddle that night. Sometimes she was teasing him specifically to egg him into that. She definitely felt somewhat addicted to him.)
He stirred a little more, so she gave him a little kiss on the cheek. He smiled a little, and his loose embrace got tighter...and cupped her breast in one hand, so he was definitely awake. "Morning, love."
"Mmmm. Morning to you too, lovely."
"I...had a question, my chief."
He grew a little stiller, the smile fading slightly. "Ask."
"Are you still planning to take other wives?"
"Eventually. If I'm rebuilding the clan, one wife is not enough, even one as fierce and lovely as you. Did you have suggestions?"
"Hmm, do I...? Estrella would be - but no, I don't think you could bear each other."
"Estrella?"
"Woman I fought beside for a while before we met. A good warrior, lean, wiry, handsome more than beautiful. But - Captain Estrella. Of the Imperial Army."
"I'd be shocked to meet a real warrior in their ranks. Are you sure of your judgment, hellion?"
"She's from a warrior family: the Army is her clan, more or less."
"...I suppose. But they're rotten, through and through."
"She's been kicked out of the army for refusing to stomach the rot. She was halfway to leading a rebellion when we parted ways, but in her own mind she's stil a captain."
"Fair. I could respect a woman like that. But not love, I don't think."
"Yeah. We grew close, traveling together. Not serious, but 'kisses and snuggling' close. I hope I can have the same with your other wives."
"I can promise that getting along with you happily is a requirement. If I take several they might not be friends with each other, but if they can't live with you they can't live with me."
"Mmm. You're very romantic sometimes, big guy."
"Perhaps because I love you."
She kissed him again. And then there were very few words for quite some time, though plenty of noises.
"Do you have any other former lovers I should know about? You mentioned Estrella."
"Hmm. Not particularly- oh, one former companion who wasn't a lover, maybe. Malakith or Nagarith or something, he was always giving himself grandiose titles like 'The Trickster' and 'The Last Mage' and 'The Shadow-Master' so it's hard to remember. Also always trying to get into my pants."
"Why'd you put up with him?"
"He was good in a fight. Magic shields, blipping around the battlefield to harass the enemy, those little floating balls of lightning mages like so much. I played anvil to his hammer, a lot like you do for me now."
"I'd say I'm the hammer more often..."
"...In battle, you ass. Not in bed. Anyway, we were mercenaries together for at least three months. Maybe as many as six? But eventually I realized he'd sooner lie than breathe, and after that it was just a matter of time before I ditched him. I don't like being us- being manipulated."
He smirked.
"Anyway, I've bumped into him a few times and he's as bad as ever. And not dead of it, which is honestly more surprising. Still trying to sleep with me, too."
"Well, if we're somewhere that allows honor duels I could end the problem."
"While it's... still very hot how ruthless you're willing to be for me, I don't think I actually want him dead. He never tried to drug me or use magic on my mind, he's just a general bastard."
"If you say so, hellion. Any other grudges I could settle? Mercenaries who did try? Employers who stiffed you?"
"Love you, my chief. But no."