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  • Ægir's Wife Ch. 02

Ægir's Wife Ch. 02

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Kirsty stared around the room. The Christmas tree that was a safe distance from the roaring fireplace had turned out magnificent in the end. Petrine had insisted that they all help decorate it on Thanksgiving. That had come as a bit of a surprise to Kirsty, but it seemed that her mother-in-law retained far more than simply her accent. She kept several of her American traditions as well.

So Olaf and Mikael had taken a delighted Monika out to back of the property to cut down the 'perfect' tree as she and Petrine had finished off preparations for Thanksgiving dinner, including turkey and pumpkin pie, something that Kirsty had never tasted before. It turned out to be delicious, especially with vanilla ice cream. Then they had all retired with stuffed tummies to the living room to watch 'It's a Wonderful Life,' another new experience for Kirsty.

Of course, decorating the tree had been the pièce de résistance. Petrine had served hot chocolate and homemade Christmas cookies as they all tried valiantly to cover bare patches in the less than 'perfect' tree that her granddaughter had chosen. She said that it reminded her of a Charlie Brown Christmas special.

When Kirsty asked who Charlie Brown was, her words cut to the core, "Oh, my poor baby girl, you have led such a deprived life. No Thanksgiving, no pumpkin pie and your movie and television tastes are seriously lacking." As she did a couple of times a day, Petrine wrapped her arms about her and drew her into a maternal embrace, "Don't worry though. I'll take care of all that now."

Kirsty had fought back tears then. If the woman only knew how truly deprived her childhood had been. Even just those hugs were something that she had craved for as long as she could remember. If this place brought peace to her mind, centered her and called to her as the city never had, if the love she had found in Bjorn's and Mikael's arms had made her feel cherished, protected and complete as she never imagined possible, if Monika re-ignited her passions for the job that had become routine, it was the older woman's love and acceptance that was the glue that held it all together.

Well, almost all of it. Kirsty looked across the room, where he knelt poking the fire until a log crumbled and sent sparks racing up the chimney. She shook her head. Weeks, over a month, and still he had spoken barely two dozen words to her. Though to be fair, he barely spoke to his brothers either, especially Mikael.

She had wanted to beat him herself when Mikael had finally made it back that night. His eye was a nasty purple and so swollen that she feared it would close shut. His lip was almost as bad and bleeding too. She had insisted on helping him into the shower and washing layers and layers of mud from his body. Of course, she had lectured him about the futility of violence the whole time.

She had another long speech prepared for when she saw Sven the next day too, but she did not see him for days. And when she did, she had fought every instinct inside of her not to run to him and nurse his wounds as well. It seemed that her 'defender' had given as good as he got that night. In the end, she had stamped her less than dainty size seven boots and thrown up her hands and exclaimed, "Men." Petrine had merely laughed then and replied, "Boys, my dear."

Since that night, Sven had taken to sleeping on the boat. More nights than not he did not even take his meals with them. But this night was different. His mother had insisted, she would not have her family fractured on Christmas. So come noon, she had grabbed Kirsty and Monika by the hands and dragged them to the boat. With her hands on her hips, she had faced down her oldest son, speaking in Norwegian so rapidly that Kirsty had no chance of even picking out more than a word or two here and there. Of course, the older woman had won that battle as all three of her sons abandoned their work and joined the family festivities as was tradition.

For the woman, who had spent more than one holiday alone with the foreign students at her boarding school as her parents worked extra shifts at the hospital, it was everything she had imagined Christmas to be. Right down to a visit from Father Christmas or Olaf's best imitation of the man anyway. Besides Sven's recalcitrant attitude, the only slight hiccup had been when Petrine served dinner.

Stinky fish jelly was the traditional main course it seemed. Lutefisk...was an acquired taste Bjorn had explained with a devious grin as he brought a fork full of the abhorrent stuff to her lips. The only positive about that experience was one of those exceedingly rare laughs from Sven...even he had found it impossible to frown through her discomfort as his mother batted the next forkful away and handed Kirsty a plate with turkey, ham and roast beef instead.

The rest of the meal had gone well up until dessert anyway. Petrine had thoughtfully included a sticky toffee pudding among the selection as Kirsty's contribution to their eclectic pish-posh of cultures. It had not been to Mikael's taste as he spit it out with a grimace, "You have no room to talk about lutefisk, lilla gumman, if this is your British idea of dessert." They had all laughed as his mother took it away and replaced it with a large slice of black forest gateau.

After dessert it had been time to open the presents. Kirsty had been incredibly nervous then. She truly had not known what to get them. Well, Monika was easy. She had ordered a puppet to use in their therapy, perhaps coax her daughter to speak more. Olaf too had been easy; she had simply doubled the order of her father's favorite pipe tobacco.

Petrine had been a bit more challenging though. Kirsty had spent days trying to figure out what to get her new mother for Christmas. The traditional jumper that she always bought for Nancy Dickens seemed too impersonal somehow. In the end, she had gotten Bjorn's help on one of their more frequent fishing trips. He had taken a small trip into London to visit a special garden shop for a Princess Diana rose bush. It was one variety that she had not seen in the greenhouse.

Of course, by far, they were the hardest to get for. In the end, she had given up 'buying' them anything. Instead she had made their Christmas presents. Scarves...that matched their eyes. She had ordered skeins of yarn online and spent the days and especially those lonely nights in that austere bed knitting them. Steel grey, alternating with molten silver and a softer grey-blue for Mikael. A deep Kelly green for Bjorn. She had debated his until the last minute, barely finishing it in time on their very last fishing trip. Like Mikael's, it was stripped. Alternating deep blue with the lighter hues of the sky on a warm spring day.

She had bitten her lip and studied them nervously as they opened their presents. Both Bjorn and Mikael had been delighted, immediately wrapping them about their necks even though it was much too warm with the fire blazing. Sven had merely smiled tightly as he caressed it, his brows furrowed as he spoke, "Thank you, Kirsten."

Kirsten, it was the first time since that night that he had called her by the pet name. She had smiled as she began opening her presents too. Petrine and Olaf had gotten her a book of local folklore that she had noticed in the store on the one trip they had convinced her to join them. Mikael had touched her with a tea cup, a real tea cup, not a mug. What made it even more special was the photograph of Monika on both sides. She had squealed in delight and hugged him tightly. Bjorn had leaned in and whispered, "You have to open mine in private, sweetheart." Her nipples had hardened and she was sure from the way that Mikael chuckled and shook his head that she must have blushed.

But by far the most shocking one was the package wrapped in red and gold paper from Sven. She had not thought he would get her anything at all, given how strained things were between them. So she was even more shocked to discover the latest model of tablet. Both Bjorn and Mikael had frowned at the extravagance for what was supposed to be 'simple' gifts. She had not known what to say or do. If it had come from Bjorn or Mikael, even Petrine, she would have jumped up and wrapped them in a tight embrace, but she could not do that with him. Instead she had mimicked his response to her gift, a simple smile and "Thank you" would have to do.

The night had ended with carolling around the tree before she and Mikael had carried an exhausted Monika up the stairs. There would be no time for bath this night. The child was simple too exhausted for such a thing.

As they closed the door, Mikael had settled the one question that had plagued her all day as he bent and kissed her lips, "Time for me to play Santa, Father Christmas, I think you call him."

"Want my help?" she asked.

He shook his head, "No, elskling, I think that you have one more Christmas present to unwrap. In private." He swatted her bottom with a wink, "You better get a shower and shave extra close. You don't want to disappoint and get punished on Christmas, now do you?"

She sighed and nodded. She knew it made sense. Mikael would need to put Monika's bicycle and doll house together. And honestly, she should be grateful that this difficult decision was taken out of her hands. Still some part of her was deeply disappointed that she would not get to share this night with him. Of course, if she spent it with Mikael, then she would miss Bjorn just as much. Damn it, loving them both was getting more complicated all the time.

Reluctantly, she stood on tip toes and brushed a kiss on his bearded cheek, "All right then, good night and happy Christmas, my love."

He winked, "Who knows, if you have been a good girl, Santa might leave something special for you too?"

Kirsty could not resist as she slipped from his embrace and casually tossed out, "Good girl? Or naughty one?" as she swayed her hips just a bit more as she made her escape into the bathroom.

***

Mikael was still smiling at her saucy challenge as he joined the others downstairs. His mother was washing up as his father and Sven chatted by the fire. For once, his mother had relented and allowed them to smoke their pipes inside on this icy cold Christmas night. But it was his baby brother that he sought out, their shared conspiracy that both excited him and was more than a bit daunting. He was not sure he was ready for his brother's special Christmas present for their wife. Then again, he was not certain he ever would be. The idea of truly sharing her this night had been tying him in knots since Bjorn first suggested it weeks ago.

He watched as Sven stood and made for the door, but as he suspected she might, their mother blocked his brother's path. Her hands planted firmly on her hips meant certain defeat for his brother. He sighed at this latest complication as he turned to join Bjorn by the tree where he was adding the pink streamers to the handlebars of the shiny new equally pink bicycle.

His younger brother laughed, "You know I was hoping for her sake that the first baby would be another little girl, but damn after all this pink, I think I can see big brother's fascination with boys."

It was the opening that Mikael had sought, "Speaking of Sven maybe we should invite him to..."

He did not even get to finish his thought before Bjorn shook his head and speared him with a look that said one more word would see them in the 'fighting' fields instead of sharing her bed together. "You of all people? Is the feeling back in your fingertips yet, Mikael?"

It was not the reminder he wanted of that other night. He flexed his left hand automatically. "Mostly," he replied as he tried again, "It just does not seem right. Not if he is going to be sleeping right next door in his room tonight."

Bjorn frowned as he looked across the room where their mother was clearly winning that argument with her son. He shook his head, "No, I am not having him ruin this night for her. He has chosen not to share her bed for weeks now. So why the hell should he join us tonight? Besides what makes you think she would want him there anyway?"

"It is not Kirsty that would not want him, baby brother. That woman is love and forgiveness personified. It is you. You don't want him there," he accused.

"Damn straight, I don't and if you keep up on this one you can sleep in your own room tonight too." Bjorn sighed and forced a smile, "Please, Mikael, you know how much I want this night to be perfect for her. You and I both know that choosing between us is getting harder and harder for her. Let's put our differences aside. Put the woman we love first. And show her that she does not always have to. Please?" Mikael nodded, "I know you are right, little brother." But that did not make it any easier.

Bjorn chuckled, "You think this is one bit easier for me, Mikael? You think I want to see the truly sadistic shit that I know you and her share? You know that is not my style. I much prefer my mind fucks side of things." He sighed as he pushed the bike under the tree, "But I know that our wife needs the pain you give her every bit as much as she needs the control I do. And I love her enough to try my damnedest to suspend my judgments for this one night. I thought you wanted the same?"

Mikael nodded slowly, "I do. At least in theory. How the hell that is going to work in reality is still anyone's guess."

His brother out and out laughed at that one, "Worse come to worse, at least I know what your weaknesses are in the 'fighting' fields."

Mikael flexed his left hand once more and laughed, "Gees, thanks. Just remember all the times I could have drowned you in the fjord when you were a snot nosed brat."

"Trust me, big brother, I never forget who always had my back as a kid. I am counting on those memories to help me control some of my jealousy tonight."

Mikael frowned, "You? Jealous of me? What? Why? She so fucking obviously loves you."

"Really? And the bond that the two of you share with my niece? How the fuck do I compete with the perfect little family routine?"

He shook his head at the revelation, "That's Monika, not me."

"Isn't it? Not only can you give her the pain, I can't, but trust me watching the two of you bath Monika is a new form of torture," his brother studied the floor.

Mikael laughed, "Then join us or take a turn, but be prepared my little girl gets you wetter than anything Ran, Njord or the worst storm can throw at you."

Bjorn smiled up at him, "Do you mean that, big brother?"

Mikael reached out and ruffled his brother's long hair. It was a gesture of affection that he had not done since the day he left that fretting and crying seven year old to join his brother, uncles and father at sea. After that, it simply seemed too childish, not in keeping with the tough fisherman he wanted so desperately to be. As he strived to emulate his big brother. "Yes, kiddo, I mean that."

When Bjorn smiled, it reminded him of that morning all those eons ago when he had taken the tyke out to see the shoddily thrown together fort that he had spent days building. The way his whole face lit up from the inside reminded him so fucking much of her. "I sent her to the shower already though. So you better go and get the room setup."

Bjorn smiled and nodded, "I did the hard part, but I left that damned pink dollhouse for you. Let's hope for lots of sons. I shuttered to think of Ægir's Captive painted pink if we don't."

Mikael laughed, "I'd be more worried about Kirsty and mother's gloating over an all-female crew."

Bjorn nodded as their older brother gave up and climbed the stairs to the room he had abandoned, "It might be worth it to see how big brother reacted."

"Yeah, well, if there is going to be any baby-making action this night, you have a special present to give our wife."

"And then another one to wrap up for us to share."

"Make the knots nice and tight. I will inspect them," Mikael teased as he turned his attention to the instructions for assembling the very pink Barbie dream house. "Sons might be nice after all," he chuckled as he set to the task at hand and tried very hard to be put his earlier concerns aside.

He would find a way to overcome them, because the truth was that he loved not just his wife, but the little shit of a brother that had been his bane of existence and fan club from the time he took his first step...toddling after him. The little brother, whom he owed so much to, for bringing her into their lives. The man who was directly responsible for giving his daughter a new mother and him a wife with a heart big enough to love them both.

He frowned...love them all. On this night above all others, it seemed impossible not to hold on to the flickering candle of hope that Sven too might eventually come around, open himself up to her and join the ranks of the 'Toffelhjälten.'

Not this night, though he had tried. Besides Bjorn was probably right. It would be hard enough sharing her with his little brother, he was most definitely not ready for that. Neither were his brothers nor his wife. But this night he had something else in mind...Chapter Ten of My Brother's Keeper had most definitely proven enlightening. To the point that it left him throbbing hard as he read it. Hell, just the thought of it now, had him wishing this damned doll house would put itself together so he could join them sooner.

***

Bjorn opened her bedroom door without knocking. She had called him so that was his right to come and go this night as his own room. Just as she was his. To do with as he pleased. He sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her kneeling on the floor next to the bed. She was perfection. Truly she was. He had waited his whole life for this woman and she was worth every fucking minute of it.

Her long red hair was secured once more at the nape of her neck with a scrunchie so he could see her face, but not her eyes. Damn it. He loved her eyes. But she was being the perfect little sub...and she was that too. His chest swelled and his cock hardened in his jeans.

Her submission always did that to him. Made him want to break her. Use her. Fuck her hard. Take her. Control that fucking beautiful mind. Master her completely...every bit of her. His. He smiled softly, of course, it also made him want to wrap her in his arms and hold her so tightly that she knew he would never let her go. Protect her from everyone and everything, even his own darkness, especially his darkness. Love and cherish her until the moment he drew his last breath at her side. He wanted it all...and she was the only woman that he had ever wanted that with.

Which made this night all the more difficult. The thought of truly sharing her, of actually watching his brother touch her, seeing another man bring her pleasure...it was challenging. Probably unthinkable to most of society. But it was their way. It always had been. And as difficult as he and his brothers were finding it, some part of his mind recognized that it fit. That there were things she needed that he could not give her. Things that Mikael could not do for her that he could.

And what of him? His mind asked. But Sven was not something he wanted to think of at the moment. He had been shocked that Mikael would even suggest including him this night. The man had made his choice. He had shunned her and the light she brought them all. Not that happiness had ever been a high priority on Sven's list.

But the way he had treated her, dragging her naked into the hall that night, like some whore on trial, stripped and standing accused of atrocities that were not hers alone. Oh, even he was still less than pleased when he saw that silvery letter M on her breast. But he had to grudgingly admit Mikael was right...none of them were doing a very good job of sharing their toy.

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