Bróðir Vegask Bróðir II

Posted on Wed Mar 15th, 2023 @ 6:52am by Lieutenant Commander Lyra Cassiel & Lieutenant Commander Andrei Petrov
Edited on on Wed Mar 15th, 2023 @ 6:53am

Mission: In-Between (S1:E4-S1:E5)
Location: Holodeck 1
Timeline: Mission Day 2 at 1915
5096 words - 10.2 OF Standard Post Measure

She hadn't actually expected Andrei to advance on her as he had but given she had been looking at him, she wasn't completely startled. She didn't pay too much mind to the fact he hadn't even seemed to remotely acknowledge the house in the slightest; his mind was obviously elsewhere. With just a moment's effort he was able to get her boots off of her feet while she returned his kiss passionately. Her fingers slid into his hair and she began to run her nails over his scalp while lightly playing with his hair; he seemed to thoroughly enjoy it when she played with his hair and she enjoyed doing it. She broke their kiss and looked at him with intensity in her eyes.

This time, with no words, he didn't rip any of her clothing, but pulled at her pants to remove them. He moved at a moderate pace, not rushed nor particularly meticulous, but confident and steadily eager. Her small clothes weren't as lacey as they were in the real world, but that increased his immersion in this fantasy. Responding to the chill, he pulled the bear fur back so that she could get warm under them and finish the work of taking off her clothes in comfort while he did so out in the open. He removed his pants and small clothes and was standing naked, facing away from her. He detected motion at a crack in the door and looked there. He saw two sets of eyes looking in quickly move away. The slaves, it seemed, were looking for a show. He grinned and turned back to the bed, his fit body moving toward it, more fit than ever.

Lyra moved under the thick black fur that was two hides stitched together to make one massive blanket. She pulled off her tunic to leave herself naked. She wrapped herself up in it and contented to watch Andrei strip down in front of her. She didn't really tire of looking at him even if this was quite a regular activity for them both. She got up onto her knees, the bearskin blanket sliding off of one shoulder. She brought her eyes up to him, her look seductive, beckoning and waiting all at the same time.

Andrei crawled onto the bed and exhaled deeply, moving like an animal, the details of his muscles changing naturally with each movement. His appendage dangled between him as he came, and his visible eye was focused on her. He reached her and stopped there, looking into her eyes.

"How shall I fuck you well, woman?" he asked, clearly asking her preference rather than advice. He had acquired that skill long ago.

As he crawled toward her, she had watched him move and the definition of his muscles, and then gradually got lower to his manhood as it bounced and bobbed in front of him like it too was searching for prey. It was also a very obvious indicator that he hadn't tired of her either. Her eyes went back to his and as he drew close to her, she opened the blanket and wrapped both it and her arms around him. She drew his pale body against her naturally tanned figure; her breasts pressed into his chest and her lips found his again. She wasn't in any great rush. They had the entire evening and into the morning before their shift.

He moved in next to her, and with a smile, he began to kiss her neck. Since she hadn't answered his question, he would simply do the best he estimated, which he was confident would very much get the job done. He kissed lower, his manhood sliding down her torso far before his mouth, his intentions quite clear.

"I believe we learned this from the Gauls, Thyra." he said with a humorous tone as his lips found their mark.

Lyra chuckled and watched him trail down her body. Truly, it surprised her that Andrei seemed not only willing, but happy to engage in this act; it simply didn't seem like him. She maneuvered the blanket around so she was still mostly covered and Andrei was also covered. She didn't want him getting cold. Her hand found his hair again and she leaned back, closing her eyes simply to enjoy his efforts.

He took his time with her, teasing her, tormenting her as he often did, toeing that line of frustration. She was panting, moaning, her hips and body were shifting as he stoked her need for him higher. She was so caught up in the moment she didn't hear the sound of the thuds in the other room, and her thighs were pressed against Andrei's head so he couldn't have heard them either. Luckily for the both of them, her dark eyes opened just in time to see the man entering the room. He lifted his sword to strike down into Andrei.

A startled cry escaped from Lyra and she sat up instantly, narrowly grabbing the man by the wrists to stay the swing. The motion made her abdomen push Andrei's head back slightly but also wedged him under her a bit. Her legs opened slightly though, and he could pull himself free. She strained with the effort put on her by the awkward angle and started pushing up to try and bring her legs under her to get more leverage. She looked under the man's arm and saw at least two more people coming in, their swords were bloodied which meant the slaves were likely dead.

Andrei had been passionate with her in every way, moving his mouth and tongue slowly around her wetness and responding to her every move and sound. When she tensed up, he noticed, and when she jerked back, he knew there was a problem indeed. He threw back the bearskin blanket quickly and bumped the arm of the man who had already tried to attack him. He saw Lyra's arm in his peripheral vision, and he stood in an athletic surge. In the room, there were four men staring at him with bloodied swords. He stood beside the bed, the ornate sword on his wall just a few steps away and looked at them with a smile. Between his legs, his large appendage was extremely hard and angled out with impressive constitution considering he was under attack. He didn't make a move for the sword.

"Boys, boys. Did you come for the show? Jealousy doesn't become you." he said, looking down at himself and then up at them. "To what do me and my woman owe the pleasure, hmm?"

The men just smirked at Andrei and readied their swords, they were obviously quite unafraid of the naked man before them, they were four strong and armed and he was not. The nearest one spoke. "Time for you to visit Valhalla, Andvari. Don't worry, we'll take good care of your woma-AH!"

Andrei would catch the flash of naked tan skin from the corner of his eyes as Lyra literally pounced on the man like a wild animal. She was not a small woman, so between her weight and momentum and the way she had struck him. He fell to the floor. He lost his grip on his sword as her thumbs found his eyes and dug down and in until they gave.

The three other men looked down, completely shocked by what had just transpired, and their hesitation left an opening.

Taking the moment, Andrei turned with the grace of a dancer and the swiftness of a racer and lifted the sword off of the wooden pieces that held it to the wall. It was heavier than what he was used to killing with, but that would hardly stop him. He spun and rotated the sword in his hands, his eyes on the three other men.

"I was in Valhalla when you came in." he commented, a smirk on his face. There was no fear, only confident energy as he lunged forward with his sword, offering it to the closest man to deflect. He deflected it indeed, and Andrei served it to him again. Again it was deflected. This time he charged, his muscular form molding his movement like a machine. He spun, wiping his mane of black hair behind him, and slashed the man's throat with the sword. Having sliced into half of the man's neck, blood poured out like a fountain and then the man, gasping and gulping, slumped to the floor. Andrei smiled. "When you get there, say hello to your whore of a mother for me, won't you?"

The other two men immediately moved to attack Andrei. Lyra, still on the floor with the first man who was writhing between her legs, grabbed his swords and quickly swung it around. The men had decided - rightfully so - that Andrei was a bigger threat, but they had left her to her own devices and there were consequences to that maneuver. The blade cut through the back of the man closest to Lyra's knees and he crumpled down with a cry. She then put her attention back on her original prey and lifted the sword up and started bringing the thick pommel down onto the man's face repeatedly.

The last man left fought with a fury, trying desperately to stay alive in the hellish scenario in which he found himself. He swung right at Andrei. Andrei countered him with a simple flourish. The man cried out in frustration and swung again, wilder this time, but left himself exposed in the way the man had done during sparring that morning. Andrei grinned, blocking his sword and then driving the tip into the man’s side. He ran it through, dark and bloody, and moved up to the man. His erection pressed up against the man, but he was dying so he hardly minded. He fell back, and Andrei’s naked body was left dotted in blood. He grabbed a nearby price of fabric and wiped off much of what he could, turning to look for Lyra.

“Thyra? Are you alright?”

Lyra was breathing hard, still straddling the man she had pounced on. His face was more or less completely gone, pounded down into a bloody pulp. She was covered in blood and bits. Seeing the one she had brought down to his knees was still alive, she shifted the sword around and shoved it through his neck. He let out a sickening gurgle and fell forward as she pulled the blade.

She stood without answering Andrei, still holding the sword in one hand and reaching out to pull her spear from the corner of the room. Armed now, she began to stalk out of the house bare ass naked and with murderous intent.

She was decidedly more angry than he was. Perhaps angry really, rather than pretend. He followed after her, as naked as she was, and stepped out into the cold with her. He knew where they were going and he didn’t need to ask. He stepped slightly ahead of her, hoping to curb her current rogue spirit with his own leadership for a change. He stepped through the doors of the Great Hall with force, knocking into someone without apology and stepping into the hall where the party was still in full swing. At first, only those near them noticed the bloody pair walking in, impressive and completely nude, but soon everyone saw them as they moved near the Jarl’s table.

“Torsten!” Andrei called out, a frown on his face. “You’re a coward, a liar, and a sneak. And I demand you kill me yourself, if you can!”

"What in the name of all the gods are you talking about, Andvari?" Torsten demanded as he stood, the music stopped and all eyes were on Andrei and Torsten. "How dare you insult me in my own hall."

Lyra for her part had allowed Andrei to move ahead of her, but given he pressed ahead without ever looking back, he would have missed the fact she was no longer behind him now that he stood in the great hall.

“You sent men to kill me in my own home. And while I was rolling around under the covers with my woman.” Andrei several. Despite the intensity of the moment, several gathered people laughed. He looked over his shoulders and noticed that Lyra wasn’t behind him. He wondered what the hell that was about, but decided there was simply no way for him to know now. “Deny it if you want, Torsten. They were four of your favorites. And they ruined my fucking carpet, by the way.”

There was another round of laughter and Torsten glowered down at Andrei from his position on the dais. "I don't know what you're talking about. Speak sense, boy!"

It was then that Lyra returned, but not with Andrei. No, instead she came out from behind the high table and Torsten's throne. She was still bloody, muddy, and completely naked. Her sword and spear however had been exchanged for something else in her arms, a fur wrapped bundle that she was cradling and bouncing slightly. Nonchalantly, she slid into the chair Torsten's wife had once occupied and sat there cradling his son. It was an absolutely terrifying sight, really.

“Where is your wife, my Lord?” Andrei asked, watching Lyra sit, bloody, with his nephew.

Torsten startled and immediately reached for his sword on seeing Lyra holding his son, but he stopped as he saw the sheen of a knife resting on top of the furs in her hand. He let the sword drop back into its sheath and spoke slowly. "Where is my wife, Thyra?"

"Sleeping, I imagine." She looked down briefly as the baby shifted and burbled in her arms, it was so quiet that he could be heard in the hall which actually seemed to relax some of the people there; they had feared she had killed the infant, it seemed. "I heard little Brandr crying and we couldn't have that." The boy let out a slight whine and Lyra responded by cooing and hushing him. It was strangely maternal which somehow just made the whole picture more unsettling.

"Admit what you've done, Torsten, and we shall fight like men before the entire village. The best man will win." Andrei said, his eyes moving to the baby. "Or refuse, we kill your son, and I fight you anyway."

Torsten glared down at Lyra, looking like he was trying to figure out a way to take his son from her, but everyone knew Thyra was wickedly fast with a small blade. He turned his attention to Andrei again, angry now. "Very well then, little brother, if you wish to hasten your exit from this world then I will give it to you and once you are gone, I will make your woman my slave so all will remember your failure."

Lyra's head snapped up from the baby and to Torsten. Andrei could clearly see that murderous intent in her eyes and her hand even flexed against the blade she was holding against little Brandr's body. It would have been so easy - she had but to stand up and slit his throat and it would all be over, but she abstained. She wouldn't take Andrei's moment from him.

"Go and get dressed for battle, little brother, then we will form the square."

"May mother's tears wet your poor head, big brother." Andrei spat, steaming, and then he looked to Lyra, indicating they should go. He turned then and moved quickly through the crowd, which parted for him. His naked body was a sight to see, and many of the women did see and whispered to each other. But his face was severe and there was distinct tension in the room.

Lyra stood with Brandr in her arms and began to follow Andrei out though she paused and pointed at three slaves. "You, you, and you. Come." She demanded in a way that startled them into submission. Right now they were way more afraid of the two bloody, naked warriors than they were of Torsten. They skittered out behind Lyra as she trailed after Andrei to move back to his house.

Upon entering, she looked to the pilfered slaves. "You two, clean up this mess out here." She jerked her head toward the dead slaves on the floor. "You, take this," she handed Brandr over to the woman, "and heat up some water so we can wash."

They moved to comply and Lyra trailed Andrei back into the bedroom; the wood floor was wet with blood.

Andrei entered the bedroom and cast his blood sword onto the floor with intentional roughness. Stepping over the bodies of the four slain men, he looked at the one that Lyra had bashed in the head until his face was gone. Shaking his head, he went to the floor on the other side of the room and laid out his tunic and pants on the messy bed. He went to the wall where several garments were hung up and pulled a few of them. He laid on the bed a green wool coat, an armored vest made of black leather inlaid with additional leather patches, and a black bear fur cloak for his shoulders. Only when everything was placed did he look to Lyra.

"Torsten will pay for this, Thyra. This is the last slight; the very last straw." he said, and stepped toward her. "I will kill him, take his place...and you will be my wife."

Lyra stood by the door, unbothered by the carnage at her feet and watched Andrei gather his armor for the upcoming fight. When he addressed her, she watched his lips and looked into his eyes and though this was just fantasy, she couldn't deny she enjoyed hearing those words coming out of his mouth. She moved into the room properly then and grabbed one of the chairs; she pulled it over near the window and then looked at Andrei.

"Will you come and sit for me, Andvari?" She asked him.

He looked at her, trying for a moment to read what she was up to before giving up the futile quest. While their stolen slaves cleaned, cared for his nephew, and heated water for them, there was time for talk. He walked over to the chair then without a word.

Instead of talking, however, Lyra simply took a step to the side and gathered up a brush and comb from the top of one of the chests in the room and along with them several strips of leather. Silently, she began to brush out his hair and then she would feel her taking the comb to section off parts. He could feel her fingers starting to split and wove the strands between them steadily. As she worked, she began to sing softly to him a song in the Norse tongue. She worked his hair with skill and was quite careful not to pull. Eventually she finished, leaving his hair in a striking set of braids, three on each side while the top had been intertwined into a four strand braid and was the main braid. Half of his hair remained down and flowing, complimenting the braids.

Andrei had cooperated through the process and had listened to her tune with interest as well. No one had ever braided his hair before, so it was certainly a new experience. He stood and placed a hand on the locks to try and feel what was happening up there. He looked at her with a curious expression at first, and then smiled.

"Thank you."

While they were doing hair, the bodies of the four men were dragged out of the room roughly and two of the three slaves were on their knees cleaning the blood off of the floor. It was still wet, so the task wasn't as difficult as it otherwise may have been. There was, unfortunately, a lot of it, and they would be at it for a while. The third slave, a girl in her early adulthood, walked in with the heated water and sat it on the table near them. She averted her gaze from their naked bodies, disturbed by death and the smell of blood.

Andrei stepped over to the water and grabbed one of the rags inside it. Then he turned to Lyra and started to clean her shoulders, moving then to her arms, then her breasts, where he lingered only a bit longer than he had to. Then it was on to her abdomen.

"Any advice for a warrior during the holmgang?" He asked, dropping close to the floor so he could clean her legs, refreshing the hot water at regular intervals.

"Don't die." She said and smiled down at him as he knelt before her to clean her legs. Of course he wouldn't die, the safety protocols weren't completely off, but as she had told him during their first viking adventure, she played with the “ouchie” settings on high so he could have been severely injured just short of death.

"Your brother is an honorable man, so he likely won't cheat. He has a weak left knee." She turned around once he had finished so he could spot clean anything that was on her back.

“Honorable men fight their own battles instead of sending men to fight it for them. They don’t hire assassins to kill their brother. They don’t ruin excellent lovemaking sessions.” He said, serious and then offering a masculine smirk. He finished after washing her back.

Lyra laughed at that.

"Well, I suppose that is true. He still probably won't cheat." She reiterated and turned to look at him. She stole a quick kiss from his lips and then picked up a different rag so that she could start cleaning him up as he had for her. She didn't dally with it, but her touch was still intimate and tender in a way, like a woman concerned for her man who was going into a potentially dangerous situation. As she washed him down, she also dried with another rag so that he wouldn't get too cold right before he went to fight.

She finished and stole another kiss from him, then stepped away to deal with the soiled rags and allow him to start dressing.

Andrei donned his small clothes, his tunic, his pants, and his thick green wool coat. Then, after slipping on his boots, he put on his leather armor and the bearskin about his shoulders. Standing straight then, he took back and green paint and applied it about his forehead and eyes. Together with his hair, he looked vicious, tall, and hopelessly powerful. Grabbing his Shashka with the bear-head pommel and the green wrapping about the handle, he cleaned the blood off, polished it, and put it in the scabbard about his waist. He also hid two knives on himself in case things got dirty out there, and stepped most confidently into the main room of his house.

Lyra wondered sometimes if Andrei was so used to doing things alone that he charged ahead or if he simply wanted to do it on his own. He’d even painted his face which had been something he seemed to enjoy her doing for him the last time and really it would have been period appropriate for her to help him with dressing for battle. She enjoyed the more gentle intimacy such an act brought, but perhaps he found it tiresome in the end; she didn’t know, but she would pay more attention to it now that she had gotten mixed signals. She had started dressing herself when she saw Andrei’s singular focus and she soon joined Andrei out in the main room. She was wearing a long dark green dress to match him; there was some embroidery in dark green and black at the bottom and around the sleeves, but it was a relatively simple dress. Sitting on her chest and around her wrists were the pieces of leather armor she had been wearing and sheathed across her back just above the swell of her rear was a knife. She was not going to fight at this moment and was simply there as his woman.

She looked over to the slave woman who was holding Brandr given there wasn’t really any place to put him in Andvari’s home and motioned for him to be brought over. As she shifted the baby into her arms, her expression briefly became one of distaste though it wasn’t readily apparent if it was simply in character or if there was something more to it. “I am ready when you are.”

For Andrei, he rarely thought of a woman doing such small things for him who wasn’t, herself, a slave. He had noticed Lyra loved these kinds of little helps and touches, but he seldom expected her to want to do them for him. He had always been one for doing the small stuff for himself and, for a space of his life, forbade the family slaves from even entering his room. He didn’t know what she was thinking, and for some reason, he seldom asked. He had gotten further with women by just pretending he already knew.

He stepped to the door and looked at her. With a nod, he indicated he was ready, and then stepped back to allow her to go first. A courtesy, as if he could see something in her eyes that communicated some minor unhappiness.

“After you.” He said simply, and held the door open for her.

Lyra stepped out of the house without a word and began to walk the muddy path back down toward the Great Hall. She left Andrei to focus while her own thoughts wandered quite out of character to matters of the... she would have said heart but she wasn't sure the heart had anything to do with it. As they approached, they could see the crowd was gathered outside waiting for this bout between the jarl and his brother. It had been a long time coming.

Torsten was dressed in his own armor, a thick brown leather chest piece, shoulder guards, and gauntlets. His hands were protected by fine leather gloves. The undershirt he wore was a rich royal blue, and he stood talking to his absolutely inconsolable wife who Lyra had apparently not killed. She looked like a mess, her face blotchy and her golden hair barely tamed. She wore a simple brown dress with no ornamentation and her feet were bare. As she saw Lyra approaching with her child, she instantly let out a shriek and tried to run toward her only to be caught by Torsten and held in place.

"Give me back my son, you witch!"

The crowd parted for Lyra and Andrei and as she walked forward, Lyra raised her brows at the other women. "No, Freydis. Not yet. Little Brandr is quite comfortable with me."

Andrei looked over Lyra’s shoulder, his unpatched eye falling on Torsten for a moment, cold and not nervous, before he turned to the muddy field in the middle of the large crowd. People had come out, men, women, and children, to see this battle. He showed his intention to kill with his menacing look, which fell on each and every one of them, one at a time. He stalked them like a predator, and then he spoke.

“My brother is no true lord! He has led like a weakling, caring more for his own glory than for this village and for your own welfare. He has stolen, and cheated, and fatted himself on your labor so that he might find himself richer. I say that he is no man and no jarl.”

He bared his teeth at his brother, but turned and kept talking again.

“Today, he sent men to kill me in my own home. My woman’s legs were around my head, and it was a miracle I heard my would-be assassins. We slaughtered them like the cowardly dogs they were…and now I am here for the man who paid them silver to do the deed. And I will slaughter him like swine, I will take his throne, and I will make his family my slaves. But you? I will give you victory!”

Lyra watched Andrei and listened to his impassioned speech to those gathered. There were some nods of agreement, a few looks shared between people, but truthfully it was rather hard to gauge how much support he had. There was no cheering, no commotion. Andrei was the usurper here, and the people knew that Torsten was a formidable warrior. They would wait to see who would be victorious today and celebrate the victor, but they would not risk marking themselves as traitorous should Torsten win.

“Are you quite done, little brother?” Torsten asked, smirking at Andrei.

"Come down here and face me. Torsten." Andrei said with a growl, grabbing the silver sword and pulling it free from its scabbard. He looked as someone threw him a shield, and he held it up in a ready position. Now he would wait. He would let Torsten strike first, and tire the man out.

At two opposite corners of the square were weapon racks with various swords and axes on them. Around the perimeter, the majority of the men were also armed with shields and some had their swords or axes drawn, a few held spears. They were not there to fight, simply to hold the square and prevent interference from anyone who might try. Torsten pulled one of the swords and took the shield offered to him before he walked out into the middle of the square, he adjusted his grip and looked across at Andrei.

"One of us will dine with the Aesir tonight, Andvari. No matter who, know that I do love you, but I cannot abide the threat you pose to my legacy anymore." He didn't give Andrei a chance to respond as he swung at Andrei with his sword. While the strike appeared like it was being aimed, it was really a feint, and the jarl smashed his shield against Andrei's. It was immediately apparent that while older, Torsten was an extremely strong individual and his people were sure of his skill. This wasn't going to be an easy fight.


TBC