Mortagin’s Claim


Mortagin’s mind raced with the gravity of the situation, he was still an honorable man and would not have her outside of proper vows. Many would call him pigheaded and thick for insisting, but he would not mire this flower before him. Suddenly he knew what he could do. The ancient ways were still accepted if not still practiced. Steeling himself for what he was about to do, he reached for the dagger hidden under his pillow, can’t be too prepared.

Serious now he trembled, unsure of Fraya’s coming reaction, “Fraya, I won’t steal your virtue like some cowardly thief in the night. You are pure and will remain so. We will not cross that line until you are my wife.” Mortagin solemnly stated.

Crestfallen Fraya slumped against his chest defeated. She just sighed and resigned herself to his resolve.

“So if you insist on this course of action…” Fraya’s heart began to thud as she whipped her head back up to face him, Mortagin held his hand up to silence her coming questions, “Then I will just have to make you my wife by ancient law, here, now, tonight.” He said firmly.

“Wha-what does that mean?” she stammered.

“It means, our blood, our flesh, and our souls connected in thrice, Fraya. By ancient law and vow we will become one. Then I will give you what you wish, me. Marriage hasn’t been done this way for hundreds of years, but it is still binding, maybe more so.” He drew the dagger into view and Fraya’s eyes widened. “Give me your hand, Fraya.” He commanded.

Fraya trustingly slipped her hand into his, gritting her teeth against the coming pain. The strike came quick and her palm welled up a thick crimson line. The slice was shallow but deep enough let her life-blood flow. Immediately Mortagin’s own open palm melded with hers, their blood mingling and joining. The jolt of it surprised them both but they continued.

He recited:
“My blood flows to your blood.” He said
“My blood flows to your blood.” She said.
“Our blood, our bond.” They said in unison.

Heat they thought born of pain from the dagger, bloomed between their hands. Mortagin kissed her hand gently and she his. Tearing strips from the robe she still wore, he wrapped their hands.

“But Mortagin, I can heal our hands, why the bindings?” she queried.
Mortagin’s eyebrows rose at her admission. “You are a healer? You never mentioned it before.”

“Yes, I am still unskilled in all but the remedial tasks but these I can easily seal.” Fraya said proudly.

Shaking his head, “No dear, not these, these must heal a different way Fraya. You will see.”

Puzzled she let him guide in this. She had heard of the ancient rites of course, but never studied the actual mechanics of them. Fraya trusted Mortagin to lead.

Turning his deep brown eyes on her again, they blazed “Now for the rest my pet.” And Fraya’s tummy lurched at his sultry tone.

Mortagin pulled Fraya close bowing his head to hers, “I, Mortagin the Feared of the Clan Giantes Highlandes bind myself to Fraya the Fair of the Clan Elves Dreywoodes until which time I die a true death. And in death shall I wait for my Fraya to join me for all eternity. By the Gods of the Giants Finrir and Mor-gauis and the Gods of the Elves Fel and Rho, bind us so.”

Fraya trembled in his embrace but repeated the vows to both his gods and hers. Looking up she smiled and the dawn broke across her face in joy! Mortagin mirrored hers and they fell back at last into one another’s arms. Betrothed no more, their vows granted by evidence of Fel’s lightning bolt that struck the clear night sky, Rho’s flower scented air, Finrir rumbling the ground and Mor-gaius shooting a blazing star to chase the lightning’s tail.

If any were aware of the ancient laws, they would see the signs for what they were, but as it were none this time of night saw the evidence. And Mortagin and Fraya wed in secret under the cover of night. Not realizing themselves what bonds that they were actually creating. Far greater than marriage they would soon find.

Vows done, Mortagin in his haste ripped the strings from the lacy bodice and taters of lace flew in all directions. “Mortagin!” Fraya giggled and feigned distress. Left only in her panties he quickly tore the fabric from her hips. Now displayed before him was his heaven. Laid bare and glowing her tantalizing curves now a feast for him to savor. His gaze alone scorched her as he trailed down the gentle slope of her neck to the firm roundness of her breasts. Fraya’s nipples beaded as his eyes swept over them and her belly quivered as he moved lower. A blush creeping upon her cheeks when he finally stopped at her soft mound. White blonde curls framed the gentle curves of her creamy lips, and peeking out was her perfectly pink bud. Fraya was still wet from her earlier spying but Mortagin knew she needed to be as ready as he could make her. Growling he grabbed her hips and lifter her until hot breath was fanning her wet curls.

“Mor-Mort-ti-gan?” she stammered.
“I will do all I can not to harm you Lass, so first you need to be as open to me as possible…no more talk…”and he dove between her thighs with his tongue. Fraya nearly screamed at the contact and bucked wildly but Mortagin held fast. He licked long strokes all around her center never touching her clitoris. He dipped his tongue into her heated core savoring her sweet honeyed taste. Fraya thrashed on the bed but he easily held her fast. His tongue snaked in and out of her glistening lips simulating a much smaller man and felt the evidence of her maidenhead.

Fraya was exquisite, her flawless skin plumbed even her depths and a groan escaped Mortagin. He was lost in the feel of her silky skin, so smooth, so good, he almost forgot himself entirely. Mortagin felt her heating and softening under his tongue so he finally began to tangle with her pouting hood. His big hands cradled her hips and soft curves tilting her for better access.

Fraya dug her nails into his scalp only exciting him further, she was babbling now; crying in earnest, tears streaming to the bed, she was so close to the edge. Not wanting to draw this out further he went in for the kill and suckled her bud hard. She held fast though and did not plummet over the edge.

Changing tactics he slid his hand around and trailed up and down over her labia with a finger then began to buzz his tongue on her now swollen clitoris. Fraya tossed her head back and screamed, her body tensed as every muscle clenched for release. She was begging now praying to the gods for an end to the torture that kept building. Then lightning struck again and Fraya splintered into pieces. Wave after wave of pleasure flowed through her body. Liquid heat flooded the bed beneath her.

Mortagin pulled himself up over her form keeping his weight upon his forearms. Cradling her temples within his hands, he brushed a wet strand of hair from her forehead. He waited for her breathing to even and for the feral light to leave her wild eyes. When she could focus again, “Welcome back darling, did you enjoy your trip to the heavens?” he chuckled.

She just smiled shyly and blushed further if that was possible. “I didn’t know it could be like that, is that how you feel when you…?”

“No, that I believe is reserved for the fairer sex, but I think we males do come close.” “Now my wife, we will complete this.” He shifted his aching shaft to gently press against her wet heat.
“My flesh to your flesh.” He said.
“My flesh to your flesh.” She repeated.
And Mortagin pushed slightly into her tightness pausing every centimeter for her to adjust. He was almost to her barrier and feared the coming pain for her. Impossibly she stretched and he saw her brow furrow with strain.

“Are you alright Fraya? Are you sure?” he gave her one last out. He didn’t know what he would do if she said no or how he would stop but he tried.
Her blue eyes held his, “I’m ready…”she breathed. So Mortagin thrust through her barrier breaking he hoped only what ought to be broken. Fraya cried out in pain embedding her nails in his back. Mortagin stilled trying desperately not to thrust again. Fresh tears splashed his hands next to her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could.

Fraya’s mind reeled from the great waves of pleasure he had given her to now the searing pain he thrust into her. She knew she had to finish the rites but all she could see was blinding pain. Fraya tried not to panic. ‘Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Why did she always push things? He had warned her, begged her to wait, tried many times, she wouldn’t listen!’ she screamed in her head. Sucking in a breath she tried to move gently on him only to whimper in further pain, and an awful wetness that had nothing to do with ecstasy slid down her inner thigh.

“No Fraya! Stay still.” He commanded. In his concern for her he felt him self begin to soften and shrink.

Fraya felt what was happening, “no, we must finish, don’t let me tarnish this Mortagin! I will be your wife in all ways.” And she clutched him to her moving upon his now more accommodating shaft.
“My flesh to your flesh, Mortagin.” She said defiantly.
Grunting against her onslaught he moaned, “My flesh to your flesh, Fraya”
And in unison, “Our flesh, as one.”

Mortagin rocked inside her velvet folds feeling his hardness rush against her walls. Filling her, stretching her, but no more tearing he marveled with relief. And soon the pain began to dull for Fraya. Speed was out of the question but they found a soft rhythm and soon Mortagin was panting, his cock straining, each throb thumping her so deep.
“Fraya- My- soul- to your soul.” He managed.
“Mortagin, my soul to your soul.” She replied softly.
Together: “Our soul, now complete.”

Something not seen in hundreds of years began; the twining of two souls into one. Out of their chests rose two great white globes of light that meshed together into one glowing brighter and growing to encompass the two beings it had sprung from.

Mortagin roared his release and flooded her womb with his seed until her little body could contain no more and it gushed between them. Fraya clutched him shaking feeling his great power subside and gently recede. The pain was still there in the background but only happiness consumed her. She was his! Truly his! When he finally stirred and she reluctantly released him, she saw her palm. The red stain on the white cloth was gone. Puzzled she removed the makeshift bandage, and found her hand perfectly healed. The skin smooth, the only sign of her injury a thin white line. She grabbed his hand and found the same. Surprise on her face she sought out his eyes.

“I told you love; they would heal a different way. Now come here wife, we have earned some much needed sleep.” And Mortagin folded her into his side where they both fell into exhausted sleep.


(YAY!!!!!!!! Finally!!!!!!)