"Saga" - Chapter 26, Part 2
For content, rating, disclaimer and A/N’s, see this chapter’s part 1.
The year had been hovering at the very cusp of summer during the ættleiding gathering. Now the calm and sunny weather ushered in the warmest season, the time of light and warmth and growth, the landscape opening up in full and fertile bloom. The forest foliage was green and heavy, still shining with the freshness of recent spring. Grasses reached for the sky in the clearings between the trees, and woodland flowers bloomed everywhere - colorful yellows, soft blues and lilacs in the clearings, bashful white stars and nodding pink buds in the shadows and among the rocks. The chatter and chirping of birds was everywhere, the persistent noise of voracious younglings in hidden nests, never satisfied, always demanding more.
The two men rode through long stretches of bilberry brush under tall spruces, and now and then emerged into open landscapes, where soggy moss edged the brooks that burbled down from the woodland lakes. Their horses kept sinking into the rich bog loam, making wet slurping sounds whenever a hoof was extricated. Several times they came across does with their new-borns in the shades of leafy branches and half-hidden among tall grasses, the fawns lying perfectly still, their mothers hovering nearby, all dark eyes and pointed quivering ears, fleet bodies tense.
The first time Einnis reached for his bow, but Eoin stopped him. “We have all that we need for now. Let them be. Let them live and grow and enjoy life for a while.”
Only twice during those first magical days did they hear the noise of other people, hunters or wayfarers in the woods, and once the steady strong axe blows of far-off tree-felling rang out across the miles. Each time they changed their direction slightly and avoided meeting anyone, preferring the feeling of invisibility, keeping their distance from everyday cares and ordinary life, alone together in a beautiful world filled with nature’s abundance.
They stopped whenever they felt like it, enjoying each other in the heat of noon-time or in the long shadows of the setting sun, crushing flowers and grass underneath as they rolled and tumbled in their urgency. Other times they lingered in the cool shade under ancient trees, languidly and lovingly taking it slow, building towards completion with sweet kisses, delighted murmurs and tender caresses.
A few days into their journey the most immediate and frantic need had been slaked. They settled by a woodland lake, lighting their fire on a small grassy promontory that extended out into the calm water. Eoin set water to boiling for the evening porridge and cut down some spruce branches to form a makeshift bivouac for the two of them, while Einnis tended to the horses. Afterwards they sat close together on a log, watching dusk descend over the lake, sharing the rest of the mead-skin’s contents between them. The rings of surfacing trout kept appearing on the calm water surface, the hooting of an owl could be heard in the distance as night fell, and the black shapes of quick bats flitted across the lake in dizzying haste.
Eoin fed more dry branches into the fire, watching the golden light play over his companion’s features and glitter in his drowsily contented eyes. Unable to keep his hands to himself, Eoin leaned in, his own eyes bright with the fire’s glow, taking Einnis’s face in his hands, kissing him deeply.
He caressed Einnis’s face, one hand sliding from his cheek down his neck where his fingers brushed against the Tor’s hammer thong. He pulled the little silver pendant out of Einnis’s tunic, rubbing it between thumb and index finger. His lips let go reluctantly, and he butted his forehead against Ennis’s instead, looking into his eyes.
“I wish I could have kept the cross you gave me. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Eoin said softly.
“You did what I wanted you to do,” Einnis murmured. "That golden thing was as nought to me compared to….”
Neither spoke for a moment. They sat very still, close together in the darkness, brow to brow, Eoin still holding the thong tight as he kept pulling both the Tor’s hammer and its owner close. Eventually he drew a deep breath.
“Do you never take this off?” he said.
“I wear it for protection,” Einnis replied. “My father gave it to me when I was a boy….”
“His purpose failed. It won’t protect you from me!” Eoin whispered, the intent behind his heated words and the gleam in his eyes making Einnis shudder.
“Come, Einnis. Come to me….” Their mouths met again, Eoin nipping lightly along Einnis’s lower lip, teeth pressing into the soft flesh gently, pulling it outwards playfully for a moment. Eoin’s hand let go the Thor’s hammer and moved downwards, pulling at the laces of Einnis’s trousers and sliding in under the fabric. Einnis already was half tumescent, tense with breathless anticipation. Now as Eoin closed his fist around him he grew hard and fully erect in an instant.
Holding Einnis in a possessive and familiar grip, Eoin sensed the increase in girth, the hardening cock swelling eagerly in his hand. He firmed his hold and squeezed, claiming his own, Einnis opening his mouth wider to welcome Eoin’s excited groan and breathing it deep into his own lungs. Einnis sat still and tense, his parted lips unwilling to leave Eoin’s, his entire being in thrall to the knowing grasp of that bold encircling fist, anticipating the pleasure and fulfillment to come.
Eoin leaned slowly to the side, lips coasting over Einnis’s cheek and down to his damp neck, lingering over the pulse point under his jaw, pressing down on the sensitive skin, feeling each urgent heartbeat as if it were his own.
Eoin breathed hotly into Einnis’s ear, his grip growing stronger. There was mischief in his voice. “You can keep your puny silver version, Norseman,” Eoin whispered in exaggerated awe and wonder. “This hammer here is the biggest and best. And by the grace of God it’s all mine. I am sure that your mighty Tor is grieved and green with envy, for his tool isn’t half as hard and strong and ready!”
Einnis exhaled, a happy gush of chortling delight that refused to be quelled. Even after he had positioned himself to show Eoin the reality behind those flattering and challenging words, Einnis kept snorting loudly with carefree laughter.
---
Their daily routine was easily established, and very different from the distant days of hard labor in the wintry Einstad woods.
They got up to piss and prepare food, eat and tend the horses, then returned to their resting place in the lean-to, the makeshift mattress of blankets. Their clothes frequently discarded and forgotten, they dozed for a while in the shade and woke up to touch and taste and possess each other anew.
Hot sun baked the sheltered cove and made the lake surface shine as if it had been covered by a thin sheet of the mountain dwarves’ finest gold. They postponed speaking of the future or the past, pushing all cares away, delaying the hard talk and possible ultimatums that awaited. For a few more days they lived as if in a land apart from time, a shimmering place of contentment, peace and plenty where pleasure was always available, freely given and eagerly accepted. A hazy glow lingered over the landscape like enchantment - every rock, tree, flower and blade of grass looking strangely bright and new.
The third evening by the lakeshore they sat together in silence, Eoin reclining against a standing rock that still held warmth from the long day’s sun, Einnis sitting between Eoin’s spread legs and leaning back against his chest. They watched dusk descend over the quiet lake.
Movement on the far bank caught their eye, and a large moose appeared out of the forest, ambling with slow steps down to the water’s edge. It stood wary and quiet for a moment, but sensing no danger it stepped through the dense reeds and out into the lake, lowering a head with massive antlers to drink.
The two men sat very still, enjoying the sight of the magnificent animal in the tranquil and serene setting.
“It reminds me of the new world, the one that will arise after Ragnarok, just like the bards describe it,” Einnis whispered.
“Now do I see the earth rise again
from the waves’ foam, green and fair -
Water cascades from the fells and cliffs
Eagles fly over, hunting for fish.”
“A new world?” Eoin mused. “No, it reminds me more of the garden of Eden, the joyful and beautiful place where the very first humans once lived in harmony with all living creatures, before there was shame in the world.”
“No shame?” Einnis said, wonderingly. “I have never heard of such a place.”
Eoin hugged him tightly from behind, placing his chin in the crook of Einnis’s neck, lips ghosting over his attentively listening ear.
“No shame,” he confirmed quietly. His palms slid across Einnis’s warm chest in a slow caress, fingers splayed. Both hands eventually came to rest directly over the pulsing heart, one on top of the other, exerting gentle pressure to better be able to feel the steady strong beat at Einnis’s core. “No shame,” Eoin repeated tenderly.
The big moose lifted its head, water dripping from its mouth, bright strings of droplets splashing into the lake as it shook its massive head and fur. The huge animal looked across the lake for a moment, having now realized that there were other beings nearby, but evidently decided that there was no immediate danger. It remained standing in the water and soon began to feed from the water plants along the lake’s edge.
The two humans on the far shore busied themselves with their own affairs.
---
One early afternoon Einnis sat up and sniffed himself, then leaned over to sniff Eoin’s body, making a thorough job of it. “We stink!” he proclaimed with considerable delight.
Tearing himself from Eoin’s arms and ignoring his half-hearted grumbles of protest Einnis rose to wade into the lake, walking carefully on the silt and sand among the slippery rocks, his feet sinking into the loose mud at the bottom. He crouched in the shallows where the water had been warmed by the sun all day, scooping up handfuls both to wash and to cool himself.
He turned back to Eoin, a glint in his eyes. “The water feels good and you’re as dirty as I am…. Probably far worse! Come down here and wash, you Irish malingerer, then let’s go for a swim!”
Eoin grimaced good-naturedly, feigning disagreement and offense, but nevertheless got to his feet. He made the few steps down to the water’s edge and waded out into the clear water, arms stretched over his head and hands joined, his supple body on full display.
For once Einnis resisted temptation. He didn’t wait for Eoin to finish his ablutions, but instead splashed further out into the lake, diving forward, and disappearing. He came up further out, gasping and spluttering. “I’ll not go far,” he called, strong strokes taking him away from the shore. He swam in among the belt of lily-pads and white water-lilies that covered the lake’s southernmost, sunny part. Once more he was gone from view.
Eoin waded out as far as he could without losing his foothold in the treacherously loose silt. He stood still and relaxed, looking out over the lake, the calm water settling around his thighs and accepting him as a part of the landscape, his own reflection smiling happily up at him as he guessed Einnis’s intent.
With a sudden whoosh and water cascading in every direction Einnis rose up out of the cold depths right in front of his waiting companion. Water pouring down his face and body, Einnis grabbed Eoin and pulled him close. Stumbling on the uncertain lake bottom, hanging on to each other for support, they flailed with the effort to stay upright, stepping on each other’s toes. Finally they found a sort of precarious balance together.
Eoin laughed, carefree gales of mirth pealing across the lake as he now belatedly fended off his attacker, water splashing around his legs as he backed towards the shore. “If you think I’m this easily frightened or surprised, you’d better think again, my graceless merman.”
Einnis threw himself forward again, grappling for better purchase on Eoin’s wet body. “I am no weak and frail merman, but a powerful water sprite, lurking in the green depths, waiting to lure you into my domain. Do not flee from me, fair human - I have you now, and will not let you go!”
Eoin pushed him off, still laughing. “Foul lecherous sprite, though you don’t look half bad, you’ll never vanquish me. I’ll have you know I’m already spoken for, and I am steadfast and true. No power on earth can move me an inch from my only one.”
Einnis grew serious, though his eyes still twinkled as he held on tight to Eoin’s naked body. “Come with me anyhow, Eoin. The water feels so good.”
Eoin lifted his right hand, one fingertip tenderly tracing Einnis's lower lip. “I like it when you speak my name,” he murmured softly, then drew a breath. “I can’t swim very well. My monastery was close to the river, as you have reason to recall, but we rarely went there to bathe.”
Einnis frowned, then splashed out of the water onto solid ground, looking back sternly and pointing at Eoin admonishingly. “Don’t you move!” A moment later he was back, tying a piece of rope around his waist like a belt.
“Come here,” he said, wading back out to place Eoin’s right hand on the rope at the small of his own back. “Hang on. Use your legs. And don’t worry.”
Eoin willingly followed his instructions. Einnis leaned forward, pulling Eoin along as his legs kicked off, and they floated together out towards deeper water.
Einnis panted a little, swimming with slow, strong strokes. Eoin moved with him, confident and unafraid, as close as if the two of them formed one swimmer’s body, holding on to the tight rope, and kicking off with his legs. Einnis’s powerful and rhythmical movements took them from the shore and out to the belt of bright green lily pads.
The plants’ long slippery stems hooked the swimmers’ legs and wound around their limbs, trailing behind them as they swam, the wet leaves clinging to their bodies. The greenish-white buds and large white flowers, each with a yellow sunburst at its centre, bobbed in the two men’s wake as they glided past.
The water was clear and faintly green. Looking down was like watching a mysterious submerged forest through a shard of expensive, opaque glass - a strange and half-hidden woodland world in the depths. Long crooked plant stems descended into the murk, and the twisted shapes of broken tree branches among the rocks on the bottom were barely discernible in the darkness far below. All of it seemed distorted and unrecognizable, and yet at the same time eerily familiar.
They moved as if weightless, Eoin sensing Einnis’s lower body working steadily under him, the strong arms and legs pulling them both forward through the sparkling cold water, Einnis’s buttocks, calves and heels briefly rubbing up against Eoin with every even push and stroke. Eoin leaned a little to the side, trailing one hand behind him in the water, his fingers gently touching and exploring a perfect and fully open water-lily as they passed it, sensing its soft and supple texture. He kept his body still as he lifted his head, looking up into the sky.
Up there in the far-away blue a few light white clouds drifted, perfectly mirrored in the clear lake water and keeping the swimmers company across the shining surface. It seemed to Eoin that the two of them were floating together in beauty through the skies, hovering between heaven and earth in a strangely trancelike state, moving effortlessly among the clouds, rising far above all dangerous and murky depths below.
But out on deeper waters the lake was cold. Violent shivers and chattering teeth soon enough brought the men back to reality. Einnis turned shore-wards, his whole body shuddering against Eoin’s as they both now moved as fast as they could.
“T-t-t-or’s balls, but it’s f-f-freezing cold out there!” Einnis wheezed, kicking strongly, striving to get back to the warmth of the shore. Once the water was sufficiently shallow for him to reach the lake bottom he rose to his feet and waded on in a hurry, Eoin following along till the water lapped no higher than their thighs.
Balancing unsteadily on the shifting silt, Eoin still rubbed up against Einnis’s cold naked body, both of them shivering violently. Slippery as a seal, Eoin rounded on Einnis and faced him. “S-s-stop” he whispered with a shaky ghost of a grin. “I w-w-want to get w-w-warm right now!” Eoin wound his icy arms firmly round Einnis’s neck and lifted himself, legs opening wide above the glistening surface of the water. Einnis instinctively moved to receive and embrace him. He widened his stance, his feet digging into the soft and treacherous loam, bracing himself as he kept lifting Eoin, holding him tightly in his arms.
Einnis managed to lumber a few heavy steps towards the shore, but the warmer water in the shallows still lapped against his calves when he stopped to kiss Eoin deeply, and to kiss him again. And again.
The sun was shining and the air was warm, rapidly re-heating their bodies once out of the water. Eoin held on, clinging tightly and surrounding Einnis as closely as ever the sinuous fable animals in Gunnar’s woodcarvings would weave into and around each other.
Eventually Einnis pulled away from Eoin’s eager mouth, gasping. “You’re heavy,” he groaned.
Eoin looked into Einnis’s smiling eyes, his own shaded with emotion far deeper than the lake waters. “You’re strong enough to take it,” he stated plainly, homing in on Einnis’s lips once more, his thighs squeezing Einnis’s haunches for emphasis.
One part of Einnis was coming alive again, rising bravely from its frozen, shrunken state to new action, fuelled by the heat of fresh desire. Blindly Einnis made another step forward, his eyes blissfully shut to better experience the pleasure of Eoin’s tongue dueling with his own. Losing his footing with a yell, he stumbled in the shallow water, his eyes flying wide open. His knees hit the sand and silt one heartbeat before Eoin’s buttocks and back fared the same jarring fate.
The impact made both lose their breaths, but Eoin still held on, pulling Einnis on his hands and knees up over himself, water lapping all around them. Their skin pebbled, but now not from the cold. With a wild shout of glee Eoin flipped Einnis over, hanging on to the rope belt as they rolled. Straddling Einnis and using the prone body under him for leverage, Eoin lifted himself up and out of the water even as he ducked down for a long, slow, smoldering kiss. Einnis’s hands slid eagerly up to find and grasp the firm buttocks Eoin was cheekily pushing into the air, wordlessly asking Eoin to find his way back to him, guiding him as he moved. Eoin sank down on him slowly, bracing himself on Einnis’s shoulders, already half-buried in silt.
“This is it,” Eoin whispered throatily, his face hovering right above Einnis’s. He kept himself perfectly still for a moment, poised tensely on the brink of passion, all senses engaged. His eyes locked with Einnis’s and did not yield. “This is us, and you know it.”
Einnis did not break eye contact, nor respond with words, but arched impatiently, pushing up against Eoin, his eyes glazing over with need. Eoin broke the impasse, making good use of the buoyancy in the shallow water. His eyes closed in concentration and bliss as he started to move.
With every forceful thrust and push Einnis was sinking deeper into the sand, having to support himself on his elbows to keep his head above water, looking up at Eoin in hazy-eyed hungry awe. The slapping, splashing sounds of their joining reverberated across the lake.
Shallow water billowed and boiled, frothing around their loins. The lake’s shimmering mirror shattered in a thousand shards, the ripples like sharp slivers of black glass, no reflection of the calm sky possible now. Choppy waves from the shore set the lily-pads out in the lake to dipping and rocking, disturbing the slumbering world in the depths. Lost in each other and a wealth of sensations neither man noticed or cared that the water surrounding them had turned muddy, opaque with grit and roiling silt, sand and pebbles churning wildly.
They found their jubilant release together, oblivious to the lone dense cloud that just then drifted in front of the sun, blocking its bright warm light.
All of a sudden the landscape turned dull, the lake water dark, and the air colder.
Tbc…..
Notes and explanations;
" Dragon-head gables” - Examples can still be seen today on the Norwegian “stave churches”, the style of which are assumed to directly continue the Viking style in buildings. This is confirmed by the fact that dragon-headed gables can clearly be seen on the houses depicted in one of the Oseberg tapestries (AD 832), which I unfortunately cannot find any image of online. Here are some photo examples from the still existing Stave Churches, where the dragon-head gable ornaments are clearly visible:
http://www.vikingwiki.net/nettbilder/Borgundstavkirke.jpg
Borgund Church in Lærdal, Norway, Ca. AD 1180-1250
http://www.tunliweb.no/Bilder_SM/_album_Bergen/f4a_1024pixel.jpg
Fantoft Church outside Bergen, Norway, - the original was built ca AD 1150.
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_95GBHXZFBzE/Saqf10AXWwI/AAAAAAAAHlg/1UEyi1l_2Qw/s320/DrakeLom.jpg
Lom Church - late half of AD 1200’s
“Friends may be many, etc” - Stanza 32 of Havamal
Loysing - literally “one who has been let loose”, ie. A liberated thrall
Seid - religious magic performed by female shamans
Fridla - Free-born woman who is someeone’s mistress
Bilberry - wild blueberry
“Cherish those close to you, never be…etc” - Part of stanza 121 of Havamal.
(I bet I’ll have quoted most of Havamal by the time this fic is through. Here’s the link to the poem’s Wiki page for anyone who is interested in knowing more about it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H%C3%A1vam%C3%A1l
Ragnarok - The end of the world in Norse mythology.
Now do I see the earth rise again..etc” - Stanza from the last section of Voluspa, the Norse poem also known as “The seeress’ prophecy”, which describes the end of the world, Ragnarok, in frightening detail. It then goes on to describe the beautiful new, bountiful and peaceful earth that will arise. Einnis’s quote comes from that section of the poem. Whether and to what extent the poem has been impacted by a Christian world view has been much debated, but we’ll never know for sure.
“…before there was shame in the world” - Eoin is speaking Norse and can talk of Shame, but not Sin. The Norse religion did not have a concept of sin, so Eoin would have no Norse word to use. Shame, on the other hand, as the opposite of Honor, was one matter every Norseman was all too eager to ponder and act on……..
The water sprite - one of the many supernatural beings of Scandinavian folk lore. The sprite appears in many folk tales and myths of ancient oral tradition, not written down till the early 1800’s, but it is probable that the tradition goes back into medieval times. The water sprite lured humans out into lakes to drown, and could take on many shapes such as that of a white horse. This link shows a famous rendition (by TH Kittelsen) of the water sprite (or a tree root…?) appearing in a still woodland lake. http://www.hellefors.se/kommun/cloudberry/CloudberryImages/TheodorKittelsenNokken.jpg
