The Ice Dragon King & The Slave-Queen

Chapter 3 - The Wedding Night

King Einar watched the young woman whom he had made his queen only a few hours earlier quake in fear in his bed. He frowned. The young woman he married was known as a whōre in her own land, one who took whichever men she liked into her bed — or even at the stables — whenever she wanted them, wherever she wanted them, since the day she first knew how to enjoy her cūnt.

He didn’t care much about those trivial matters. He knew from a very young age himself that men and women have needs, and those needs needed to be fulfilled from time to time. He himself had had many women since the first time he knew how to use his cōck. In fact, he had a woman only two nights ago, one who managed to take his mind off this dreadful scheme of an arranged marriage that neither he nor the Celtic king truly wanted, except for them to find some common ground and peace — even if it were temporary.

King Einar would not begrudge his new wife in these intimate matters. Except that now that she is married to him, he would make sure he is the only man she would ever be with. He would not allow any ambiguous circumstances that would question the legitimacy of his child and heir. Her days and nights whōring around will be in the past. From now on, she will only be his and his alone.

King Einar never shares what's his.

His only question now was, why was the young woman sitting in his bed looking so terrified? He noted the way she clenched the bed covers close to her chin, the way she stared at her lap, and the way her breathing came quickly, similar to how it was at their wedding earlier. Was she afraid of him? He didn’t want another episode of her fainting in his bed tonight. Not on the very same night that his blood was heated and he had been imagining a good tumble with his new wife in bed.

“Look at me,” King Einar commanded.

King Einar watched as the young woman raised her head slowly to look at him, her lips pursed in a thin line. When her clear blue eyes clashed with his, his heart skipped a beat. Oh, what a lovely face, he thought. His eyes drank in her heart-shaped face, her creamy skin, and the light twinkling in her eyes. His eyes traveled along her eyebrows, her button-nose, and her full red lips. His annoyance slowly ebbing away, he reached out and traced a finger from her jaw to her chin. He saw fear dancing in her eyes, but he had to compliment her courage. She did not take her eyes off of him even though it was evident in her quick breathing that she was afraid.

“You are married to me now, Orla. I will claim what is mine,” King Einar said matter-of-factly, his husky voice low.

The young woman stared at him and then her eyebrows rose slowly. She looked like she didn’t understand the meaning behind his words at first, but then he saw the blush slowly spreading on her cheeks. He enjoyed watching her this way, all rosy and sweet. He hardly smiled in his life, but watching her reaction made the end of his lips curl up again.

What his wife did next surprised him. Although one of her hands was still holding the covers up to her chin, the other hand tapped the empty space on the bed next to her. King Einar’s eyebrows shot up. So, she really does know how to play this game, he thought.

King Einar shook his head. He didn’t want to immediately get into bed. He wanted foreplay, and to prolong their first night. Yes, he might not know her in other ways yet, but tonight, he would like to know her in the most biblical meaning of the word. Getting to know her personality and interests can come later. So instead of getting into bed, he told her to stand in front of him instead.

Taryn was confused as to why the king wanted her to stand. What she was made to understand all this while was that for a man and woman to mate, the husband should join the wife in bed and they would go to sleep together. In the process, she might or might not get pregnant. Most husbands prefer to father a child quickly, especially sons. As soon as she gets pregnant, her life could improve much more. The Celtic king and his ministers had told her to keep the Varangian king happy and busy. Furthermore, she was in fact very tired, her hunger and exhaustion were ready to consume her at that moment. She would prefer very much if the two of them could just go to sleep.

The other reason Taryn was hesitant to get out of bed was that she was technically naked under the thin nightgown. What would the king say if he saw her like this? He might have thought that she was such a hussy!

King Einar’s patience was wearing thin as he waited for Taryn to have a monologue with herself. He was feeling a little hot, the hard liquor he drank at the festivities was weaving its magic in his veins. He was a little aroused too, especially after looking at his new wife’s beautiful face.

He remembered looking at a painted picture of her that his ambassador brought back many months ago during their year-long negotiation for peace. The Celtic king had offered something more than just an annual tribute to the Varangians to try to appease them and stop them from attacking the Celtic kingdom. At first, King Einar was happy to just accept a piece of land in the kingdom as well as an annual tribute from the Celtic king. But when his ambassador brought back news that the king had offered a new term to the negotiation, King Einar was about to slam it all back in the Celtic king’s face. However, as his ambassador slowly revealed the new terms to him and his trusted advisors, King Einar was intrigued.

“King Náel Sechnail has offered a new term to the peace treaty, Your Grace,” Ambassador Canute, one of King Einar’s oldest and trusted men, said as they sat around the oval table.

King Einar was already annoyed with the idea of a peace treaty, knowing that such an agreement would arouse discontent amongst his chieftains. Many of his men viewed the raiding and pillaging of other kingdoms as a show of force and power. This was one of the ways the Varangians sent a message across the seas that they are a khaganate that should not be trifled with. Such a show of power had been going on for centuries from the khaganate before theirs, called the Rus’. King Einar's ambition was to bring his Varangian people to rise above his ancestral success. His chieftains agreed with his plan to rise higher than the Rus’ Khaganate and thought the best way would be to colonize other lands and kingdoms.

“What is his new term then?” King Einar asked, bored.

“He said, after much thought and discussion with his men, he would only pay the annual fee to you but he would not hand over the piece of land that you requested,” Ambassador Canute said.

King Einar slammed his palm on the table, the sound much akin to the cracking of a whip. The other men next to him almost jumped out of their chairs but the elderly ambassador continued to look at King Einar, his face not giving anything away.

“Is he looking forward to meeting his father in hell?” King Einar asked, his voice low, but everybody in the room could hear the fury in it.

“He did offer something else, however,” Ambassador Canute said and paused.

“The Celtic king said that his final offer for this treaty would be two things. First, he agrees to an annual payment to you. Second, he would like to marry his only daughter to you. In giving his daughter to you, he would expect you to stop the raids by your men in his kingdom. Furthermore, he said if you put a son in his daughter’s belly, he would name your son his heir. After his passing, your son will be crowned as the Celtic king,” Ambassador Canute finished with aplomb.

Murmurs began around the table. His Varangian men's objective of plundering and pillaging other kingdoms was because they would like to expand their power and territory. At the same time, the number of people is rising. Yet, King Einar and his advisors know that conquering lands alone is not a very safe bet. What would his people do if the Celtics decided to rise, combine forces and fight the Varangians out of their kingdom? A marriage of convenience, however, would be a different thing. To top it all off, the Celtic king would even recognize the child from their union as his heir, putting a strong claim to the Celtic lands, even if the child from this union was of Varangian blood and upbringing.

“I have brought along with me a painted portrait of the Celtic princess,” Ambassador Canute presented a small parcel wrapped with a silk cloth. The ambassador unwrapped the parcel and placed a square, four-by-four inch frame with a colored painting of the princess on the table.

“The Celtic king commissioned a well-known artist in his kingdom to prepare a portrait of his daughter so that I could bring it home and show it to you,” Ambassador Canute pushed the small framed painting to his king and waited to see King Einar’s reaction.

King Einar was not impressed. He looked at the mousey-looking girl in the painting, her hair the shade of carrots, her eyes too far apart, and the freckles all over her face. She looked young but the way she squinted at the painter made him feel like she was watching a fly and was about to swat at it furiously.

“Is the painting true to its likeness?” The king asked.

“I would say that the artist captured almost entirely true, Your Grace,” Ambassador Canute confirmed.

King Einar almost wrinkled his nose. He thought the woman he was currently sleeping with looked ten times better than the girl in the painting. However, he cannot deny the fact that the Celtic king’s offer was very intriguing.

“Your Grace, if you agree to this new term, King Náel Sechnail also expects a portrait of yourself to show to his daughter. If you would be so inclined, I will then bring your portrait and hand it over to the Celtic king on my next journey.”

The Varangian king had always wanted new lands and the Celtic kingdom was huge. To forcefully take the land from the Celtics would mean a full-blown war, something he would rather not have. He wouldn’t want to risk the lives of his Norsemen. On the other hand, he was a young, virile man. He knows he could get the princess with a child within six months after the wedding, at most. If he could beget her a son, he would make sure the Celtic king quickly proclaim the child as his new heir. Who knows how long the Celtic king would live? The Celtic royals are not known for having a long life, due to the heavy indulgences they allow themselves. If the Celtic king dies, King Einar could rule on behalf of his son until his son comes of age. His son would be raised in the Old Norse way and beliefs and everyone else in the kingdom would soon follow.

It didn’t take long for every person in the room to agree unanimously on the new terms.

His ambassador stood up and took his leave.

Regarding having his portrait drawn, however, the king told his ambassador to bring any painter or artist he deemed fit to do the job. When the artist arrived at his castle, King Einar commanded the artist to paint his general and first commander, Stig, instead. The artist drew Stig’s profile almost to perfection. When Ambassador Canute next sailed back to the Celtic kingdom, he brought Stig's portrait in his leather satchel instead of King Einar’s to show to the Celtic king and his princess. The ambassador requested King Náel Sechnail to draw up the official documents before both the Celtic king and the Varangian king would sign and seal the treaty with their Seals Of State.

Taryn lowered the bed covers onto her lap and slowly swung her feet to the side of the bed. She stood up straight and looked up at the Varangian king.

King Einar sucked in his breath sharply. Underneath the thin nightgown and illuminated by the candles on the nightstand behind his wife, he could see every curve and ridge of her body. Her breāsts, fair and perky, stood proudly underneath the nightgown, her nipplēs light-colored, teasing him. King Einar could feel his cōck pulsing, growing, demanding him to release it from its entrapment, but he tried to push the demands of his cōck away from his mind.

“Orla,” the king said, his voice hoarse.

Taryn had always imagined the Varangian king to be fearsome, intimidating, and rough, but at this moment, he was looking at her differently, sending a message as old as time to her naïve mind. His eyes burned with desire as they stared through her thin nightgown. The first thing that attracted Taryn was his eyes, hazel-gold in color, the gold dancing in his irises as the candlelight behind her danced along with them.

King Einar saw that her nightgown was actually two pieces of fabric tied in ways that were teasing his brain and cōck. There were ribbons on both her shoulders and along her sides that were holding the two pieces of fabric together. He knew that if he pulled both the ribbons on her shoulders, the nightgown would fall to her feet and her nāked body would be on full display for his hungry eyes.

King Einar bent his head towards her. His wife looked so innocent as she stood there in front of him as if this was her first time, but King Einar knew better. He knew she had known many men for a few years now. He thinks she was only playing like a virgin to tease him, and it looked like it was working quite well. He was getting more excited, watching the quick rise and fall of her chest and inhaling the scent of her. She smelled of wild lilies, a type of flower that was very hard to find in his kingdom, due to the very cold weather. Her scent ignited a fire within him, making him reach out his hands to the back of her nape, even before he realized it, and crushed his lips on hers.

Taryn gasped. She had never been kissed in her whole life before and the sensation that she felt when his lips closed on hers shocked and scared her at the same time. For at the back of her head she knew that she was not truly this man’s wife and with every action, there would be a reaction — if not today, then some time in the future.

Taryn’s nostrils were filled with the king’s fresh masculine scent, like the smell of dawn, when the leaves are awoken by the soft touches of mildew. The king gathered Taryn closer to his body, a large and hard body, his muscles twitching as he tried to keep Taryn at bay, not wanting to crush her with his strength.

Taryn didn’t know what she was supposed to do but the way he held her and the way he kissed her made her body tremble, just like that morning when she stood next to the king during the wedding, except that this time she was trembling with pleasure. King Einar deepened his kiss, teasing Taryn’s lips to open and when she did ever so slightly, he let his tongue dive into her mouth to explore her.

Her head swimming from the foreign sensation, Taryn clung to the king in desperation, both her hands gripping the front of his tunic, feeling like she was floating and fearing that she might fall at any time. The king slowed down his kisses and tried to even out his own breathing, for even though he was very experienced when it comes to the art of physical pleasure, he was very much affected by Taryn’s body, the small moaning sounds she made, and her titillating scent.

King Einar raised his head, watching Taryn as her heavy-lidded eyes started to open, the remnants of their shared passion still lingering in her clear blue eyes. She blinked quickly then, her eyes downcast again, as though she was shy about what had just happened between them only a few moments ago. Once again, King Einar’s lips curled up a little. He thought, if she really wanted to act all coy with him then, he would indulge her.

As they stood quietly in front of each other, King Einar didn’t think he would be able to hold himself back any longer. His hands flew to the ribbons on both her shoulders and he pulled them at the same time. The thin nightgown stayed in place for a few seconds before it slid down effortlessly, pooling at her feet. King Einar heard her gasp but she stood still in the same position.

King Einar took a step back to drink her in and a thought crossed his mind out of nowhere — what a lucky man he was to be married to such a beauty. The first thing that caught his eyes was her perky breāsts, which had been teasing him under the thin nightgown since the time she stood uncovered in front of him. Her pink nipplēs were hard, either from their hot kiss only moments earlier or from the way his eyes roamed over them. When he first saw her standing next to him in front of the priest that morning in her long Celtic dress, he would never have imagined that she would have an hourglass figure underneath the unflattering dress. Now, standing naked in front of him, she looked glorious. Her milky white skin was highlighted by the dancing flames from the hearth and candles and then, slowly, her blush spread from her chest to her neck and up to her cheeks.

“Beautiful,” he breathed as he continued staring at her.

She looked at him, giving him an imploring look as if she couldn’t believe what he said was true. But it was true. And the embarrassing part was, he had never said such a thing to any woman he had bedded in his life before.

King Einar bent down to carry her and swiftly regretted his actions. For her breāsts, her flat stomach, and the V between her thighs were closer to him in this position. He lowered her onto his bed slowly, making sure she was in a comfortable position. He lowered his body next to her, one of his hands touching her shoulder lightly, moving to her collarbone, to her neck, touching one of her earlobes, and running his fingers through her fiery hair. As he did this, he watched her reaction. Her body was tense at first, but then she started to relax and as he ran his fingers through her hair and massaged the back of her head, she sighed.

King Einar captured that sigh with his lips as he, once again, kissed her, first gently and tenderly, and when he felt her response slightly to his kiss, he increased the pressure, nibbling her bottom lip slightly, teasing her to open her mouth to him. And when she did, his tongue explored her mouth once more, the same electrifying sensation filling his senses, making him feel powerful.

He wanted more, so his hand that was at the back of her head traveled back again to her neck and her collarbone. His hand brushed the side of her breāst lightly, causing her to gasp, and then he gently massaged her breāst, making her moan. As he cupped one of her breāsts in his palm, he could feel her nipplē hardening even more in his palm. He tore his mouth from hers and peppered kisses on her jaw and her neck, trailing kisses to her breāsts. He didn’t hesitate as he opened his mouth over one of her breāsts, licking the hardened nipplē, sucking on it gently, circling his tongue around it, over and over again as she moaned and writhed under him. He gave the same undivided attention to her other nipplē as his hands moved and roamed all over her body.

Taryn was lost in the sensation. She wondered if she had gone to heaven because every touch, every flick of his tongue, every sucking motion was making her body tingle and feel warm all over. She felt a pulsating sensation somewhere in her nether region and wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. She was shy and was not sure if what she was doing was right, but when the king turned his head from her left breāst to her right and started sucking on her nipplē again, she reached out and gripped the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair and pulling him closer to her.

King Einar understood the need, without her having to say anything. As he rolled his tongue on her areola, his free hand that was massaging her other breāst started traveling downward to her flat stomach, following the curve of her hip and the smooth side of her thighs. His hand moved to her knee before it traveled upward again to her inner thighs, slowly moving towards the V between her thighs.

When the king’s hand touched Taryn’s c**t, she automatically clamped her thighs together. She didn’t know why, but a warning bell started going off at the back of her head and she panicked. Her eyes flew open and her hold at the back of the king’s head slackened. Taryn felt like she was doused with cold water.

The king raised his head, puzzled as to why his wife froze and wouldn’t give access to his wandering hand. He was starting to get tired of her playing the role of the virgin bride. All he wanted was to give both of them a good release before they could relax and go to bed. Why was she doing this?

“Orla,” the king whispered, and he saw her wince.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.

Taryn didn’t know how to say it but there were two things running through her head at that moment. The first was why his hand was about to touch the most sensitive part of her body, one that was pulsating wildly in response to his kisses and touches. The second thought that ran through her head was that she was not truly married to him, not by the law of men or by God. He called her "Orla", but her name was Taryn. She was not a very religious person — it is hard to be religious when you are incredibly poor — yet a part of her felt like whatever they were doing right now was very wrong.

“My lady?” King Einar called out to her and she turned her head to look at him.

“Are you afraid?” He asked and her eyes widened slightly.

Taryn wondered how he knew one of the two thoughts that crossed her mind.

“I understand we have only met and you might have your reservations about me. But, you are my lawfully wedded wife, as witnessed by my people and yours at the ceremony today. And most importantly, it was witnessed by the gods,” the king said soothingly as he looked at her.

“Be mine tonight,” King Einar said, and it seemed like his words had their own magic because a few seconds later, his wife started to relax.

Taryn heard what the king said and thought, if it was witnessed by the gods, both hers and his, then the gods would know that the one who stood in front of the priest, the one whose hand was bounded with the king’s and the one who shared the same cup and drank the same wine with him was her. It was she who was married to the Varangian king. Not the Celtic princess. Her.

King Einar watched her expression relax and the tension in her legs eased. Taryn didn’t know what exactly was going on but she definitely enjoyed what the king was doing to her. Her exhaustion and sleepiness gone, she turned her nāked body slightly towards the king and looked at his lips timidly. She saw his lips curve into a smile as he descended his head toward her once more.

Their kiss this time was a little rough. King Einar kissed her hungrily, a promise of something good to come soon. He didn’t know why he was being so gentle with her right then, even though, from the reports he received from his ambassador, she was close to being a harlot back in her kingdom. He thought it was her eyes that mesmerized him, gentling him, coaxing him.

Taryn moaned when she felt his fingers rub against her aching c**t, now pulsing quicker than before, wanting something, needing. She moaned again when she felt his finger slide into her wetness and felt his own breath come quick and hot in her mouth. He moved his head to her breāsts again. This time she arched her back when he suckled her, her head trashing softly on the pillow as his finger moved inside her, teasing her, making her want more.

“Please,” she begged into the night, not understanding what exactly she wanted but knowing somehow that he was going to give it to her.

“Reach for it. I’ll give it to you,” he promised her, his fingers moving inside her, feeling her warmth, her wetness, her tightness, making his cōck bulge with need.

Her gasps came in short bursts as he felt her muscles contract around his finger tightly again and again. He couldn’t wait any longer. The sound of her, the scent of her, and the thin silky layer of sweat on her body almost pushed him over the edge. King Einar stood up, tearing his tunic and trousers off from his body from the urgency to be inside her.

Taryn’s passion-drugged mind wanted more, so when the king separated himself from her to take off his clothes, she let out a small sound of protest. She watched shyly as the king quickly took off his tunic and when he slid his trousers off of his legs, her mouth went dry. Because this was the first time she ever saw a cōck in her entire life. His cōck sprung out of his trousers and stood proud and hard in front of her, making her blush furiously. She never knew men had that, but as she looked at it and then she looked at him, she thought how majestic he looked, how beautiful he was, and how lucky that her first time was to be shared with such a man.

King Einar lowered himself onto his wife, rubbing his chest over her breāsts gently, kissing her neck and her earlobes. He spread her legs apart slowly, straddling her, feeling her legs lock behind him. He rubbed the tip of his hard cōck on her wet entrance, both of them gasping in delight at the sensation.

He was about to push the tip of his cōck in when someone banged loudly and repeatedly outside his bedroom door, almost crashing it. Taryn let out a small cry of surprise as the king shouted, “What?!”

“Your Grace! Our warship, the Skadi, has returned,” the panicked voice called from outside his bedroom.

“It's on fire! Our men!” The man yelled, fear evident in his voice.

In an instant, the king pushed himself off the bed. Only this morning, he voiced his concern about the whereabouts of one of his warships, the Skadi. It was yet to return, even though they had estimated it to arrive at least three days before the wedding, if not earlier.

King Einar, a king and a warrior first, put on his trousers and his slightly torn tunic quickly. His mind was no longer on his naked wife but on his warship and his men. He dressed carelessly, all he could think about was his ship and his men.

Taryn was dumbfounded. She had pulled the bed cover over her nakedness once again when the king got off her. She was amazed to see him dress up so quickly. She could see where his priorities lay as she watched the seriousness on his face and the way his jaw was set.

“I must go. My warship is on fire. I shall be gone the whole night. Cover yourself and go to sleep,” he commanded as he finished putting on his boots and walked to the door.

As the door was about to close behind him, Taryn saw the Varangian general and first commander, Stig, the same large man who brought her to her wedding venue that morning, was already waiting for the king outside his room before they both hurried off.