Ægir's Wife Ch. 08

"Cum for us, our sweet Freyja," Mikael's whisper was all it took as her body and mind melded together in perfect union. She opened her mouth to scream but Mikael's covered it. His tongue danced against hers as his hands on her hips ground her against his hard cock.

Just when she thought she might be getting those raging hormones back under control, she felt another pair of strong hands wrap about her from behind toying with her breasts, tweaking her hard nipples as she felt Bjorn nipping along her shoulder. She whimpered into Mikael's mouth before pulling back from his kiss to taste his brother's. That was all it took to push her body to the next level as the jets of her orgasm thrust her higher still.

Slowly she came back to herself, safely cocooned between them. "Wow," was the depths of her conversational skills at the moment.

Mikael chuckled as he shook his head and his hand swatted her outer thigh playfully, "Be good, elskling."

"Yes, Sir," she whispered. She frowned as she realized that her head was completely clear for the first time since she had woken that morning.

"Now, from the beginning, tell us what is the matter with the girl?" Mikael asked as he exchanged a knowing grin with her.

She nodded with a sigh, "Like I explained to you last night, we had to take Monika to brunch with my parents because Georgia fell and broke her arm. Except she did not. When she got here this morning, she was upset and you saw her..." she paused until Mikael nodded.

"Those are not the kind of bruises you get from just falling down stairs. I knew that. Daddy knew it too. So I pushed her to tell us what really happened. I know that is not the best way, but I did not feel like I had any choice. With us leaving today I mean..."

"You did fine, sweetheart," Bjorn said giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

She turned and smiled her gratitude at him before continuing, "She finally admitted that her father did that to her. Something about interfering when he disciplined her mother, but that is not discipline."

Mikael's face was a mask of anger and his eyes the deepest dark grey almost black as he nodded, "No, it most definitely is not. But sometimes people use the lifestyle as a cover...an excuse...for their abuse. What more did the girl say?"

"Nothing much. Well, nothing I could make much sense of. But I'm worried. She seemed so despondent and the way she kept talking about saying good-bye...it was just so final. I'm really worried about her," she confided.

"I want to take her with us." She looked back and forth between them, "Please. University is out for the next couple of months anyway. She doesn't really have any friends here. Just her parents...and if... We can't just leave her here. What if... Please."

Bjorn nodded his head with a heavy sigh, "She's right, Mikael. That girl has been a life saver to us all these months. We can't just leave her here to be abused."

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen, almost twenty. So it's perfectly legal for her to leave home," Kirsty could almost read his thoughts.

"Does she have a passport?"

"Yes, she used it to prove her identity and age when we hired her," Kirsty tried to not get her hopes too high. But she had to get through to him somehow. Somehow.

"For the summer. Do you understand, Kirsty? She can come with us for the rest of the summer. Then we'll come up with a plan to keep the girl safe while she finishes university. From what the two of you have told me...and how my daughter is with her...it is the least we owe her," Mikael acceded.

Kirsty threw her arms around him, "Thank you, Mikael. Thank you!"

Bjorn smiled, "It might be a blessing in disguise actually. Mama will be so worried over Sven. With Kirsty's pregnancy and us at sea trying to keep the business afloat," he chuckled. Kirsty was happy to see the genuine smile on his face. "It will be nice having an extra set of hands with Monika."

Mikael nodded as Kirsty's father walked into the room, "I was not eavesdropping, but I could not help overhearing. That girl should not travel. Not until I have looked her over. And documented all her injuries."

Kirsty shook her head, "But she must have gone to the hospital, Dad. With her arm. They would have done all that then, wouldn't they?"

He shook his head, "No, little girl. That cast was not put on by any legitimate doctor. Not from what I could see. I want to take her to the hospital and document all her injuries..."

"No...NO!" Georgia's eyes were huge with shock and her skin was deathly pale beneath the black, blue and purple.

Kirsty went to the girl, "Georgia, Daddy is right. You have to get examined. Make sure that nothing else is broken. Have that arm set properly."

"No, I need to go now," the girl protested.

But Monika's voice was louder as she stubbornly wrapped herself around Georgia's leg, "Georgie no go. Georgia Homdling."

Mikael's deep laughter defused the tension just a bit, "You know one day we may regret teaching this child to talk. But not today. What do you say, Georgia? How about coming back to Norway with us? Just until university starts back up in the fall mind you."

The girl looked from him to Monika and then Kirsty as she nervously chewed her lower lip. "I don't know. I probably shouldn't. My father won't like it."

"It would be a huge help, Georgia. It may take months for my oldest brother to recover. Our mother will be fussing over him and won't be much help with Monika. Mikael and I will have to be at sea most of the time or we'll lose the family business. And with Kirsty's pregnancy, well, it would be a real blessing. We could use your help here," Bjorn pleaded their case.

Georgia sighed as she looked down at Monika still hanging onto her leg, "Okay, I guess. For a few weeks though. Just until your brother is well."

"We'll have you back here in time for your classes, you have my word," Mikael promised.

"I really am not comfortable with you going on a boat for several days without knowing the full extent of your injuries, young lady," Kirsty's father added. "Especially with my granddaughter relying upon you. What if you have broken ribs and your lung collapses while you are with the child?"

Kirsty watched as her friend withdrew once more. She feared that all of their ground would be lost, "How about a compromise, Daddy? You check Georgia out here quickly." She turned to the young woman, "I'll stay with you the whole time."

"For now that would do," her father agreed.

Georgia shifted nervously from side to side as if reconsidering the whole thing. "Georgia Homdling," Monika once more had the final say as the girl nodded her head slowly.

Kirsty let out the breath she had not known she was holding. Mikael might think this was only for a few weeks, but she would come up with some plan. She was not allowing the girl to come back here and be abused. No, she would think of something.

"Mikael, you and Monika, begin packing the van. And Bjorn, would you mind finishing breakfast while I help Daddy?" She blushed, "I might have made a tiny mess in the kitchen."

Bjorn chuckled, "Only a tiny one?" as he bent and kissed her.

Mikael knelt on the floor and spoke directly to Monika, "You heard your Mama. We have to load all your toys into the van."

The child held tighter to the leg, "Georgia Homdling. Please."

"She did it again" Mikael smiled.

Georgie gently pried the child's arms away, "Yes, Monika, I am going home with you. But you have to help your Daddy pack first. Can you do that?"

The child smiled, nodded and released her death grip. She skipped away and would have been off out the door if the lock was not just out of reach.

Mikael bent and kissed Kirsty too. She noticed the way that Georgia's eyes flared in shock. Shit, she had forgotten one tiny detail.

Another person to come clean with about her three husbands. "Oh, the tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive," she whispered beneath her breath as they all went their separate ways.

***

Mikael was tense as he followed the young woman up the stairs of the apartment building that had definitely seen better days. Council flats, Kirsty had explained. He had not seen anything like them. Dark, reeking in the corners of urine, the only color was graffiti. If he had been glad to get his daughter and wife out of the city and back to the Holding, this was much worse.

He saw a little boy probably around Monika's age peek his head out between the steel bars of a door. His throat tightened. It was as if the child were a prisoner in his own home. What must it be like to grow up in a place like this?

But as much as he wished he could just grab the child and take him with them too, show him the joys of running free in his mother's wildflowers, breathing clean air and the relative quiet of the Holding with only the birds to sing their songs instead of the seemingly constant sirens of police and ambulance in this place, no, he knew that he could not save everyone.

He looked at the young woman, who had become so important to his daughter, as she struggled to climb the stairs. He knew why too. Kirsty had come crying to him as soon as her father was finished examining the girl. The things she had told him about the other injuries, the ones they could not see, turned his stomach and enraged him.

Not that he had not left more than his share of bruises and marks upon his wife's body. Not that she had not found sitting difficult more than once after a night with the paddle or the canes or the tawse.

But there was a huge difference. That was consensual between a Dom and his submissive. A sadist and a masochist. He knew that she enjoyed...no, needed his pain...just as much as he did. That she chose to wear his marks. Even when little brother might have balked at the severity of them, she was the first to remind Bjorn of consent.

This is not consent. This was abuse. But what bothered him more than anything was...a father had done this to his daughter. Not that abuse was ever all right. Whether a girlfriend or wife or even a sub, whose consent had been violated.

He smiled, it might seem ironic. They, who had kidnapped their wife. Who had taken her. But even then, from the beginning, they had known that she was submissive. Yes, they may have pushed her limits. He knew he certainly had, especially that first night. But he had been experienced enough to read her reactions.

He focused his mind on the present though. Now was not the time to think Freyja again that his wife, whom he had not really wanted, had turned out to be not only the perfect mother for his daughter as he had suspected she might be...but also the ideal masochist for his dark needs.

The girl stopped outside a door, "You wait here. I'll just run in and grab my passport. Maybe a couple of things I need."

He shook his head, "No, I'm going in with you."

She chewed her bottom lip that was already swollen and cracked, "Please, it will be best this way," she pleaded.

"No, I am not allowing you in there alone."

"Papa probably is not even home, right now. He usually goes to the club with some of his friends by this time every day," she said as she studied the concrete beneath her feet.

Mikael was not certain whether that was a good thing or not. For certain, he did not want to end up in jail in this country. But some vengeful part of him was disappointed that he would not have the opportunity to teach the man a few lessons about how pain and helplessness felt.

"Then I will just wait with your mother while you get your stuff," he insisted as she fumbled with the lock. He saw her shoulders sag as she nodded reluctantly. He could only imagine the weight that they carried.

"Mama," she called out as the door swung inwards on a dark but immaculate room.

The tiny creature that appeared from out of a doorway might have once been as beautiful as her child, but it was more than just time that had ravished it. Like her child, one eye was swollen shut and her lip too was cut. Her nose was misshapen, obviously it had been broken, probably long before this.

The woman began to speak rapidly to her daughter. It took him a moment to place the language. He could not even be certain but he thought it was Slovakian, although it could have been a Polish dialect. He knew a smattering of several Eastern European languages, enough to pick up a word here or there, especially in context, he could piece it together.

The woman was not happy that her daughter had brought a stranger into their home. Her husband would be angry. What might he do this time? Mikael felt his fists tighten into balls at his side.

He caught a bit more as the girl spoke in a low, but clear voice. She explained that she was going with the family she worked for. That she would come back for school. That she would send money home. To hide it and not tell her father. That she would get them out of here somehow.

Why it should be her responsibility to save her mother infuriated him more. If the woman had not had the courage to leave her husband when the abuse began, he might not understand that, but how she could have allowed the man to turn his rage on her child was beyond him.

He had never wanted to raise his hand in anger to a woman, not even Greta when she tried to seduced his brothers or walked out on him...and Monika. But he did when he pieced together the woman's next words, "How can you do this to me? Leave me here alone with him."

He wanted to think that perhaps he had misunderstood but the look of guilt and helplessness that showed on Georgia's face told him that his ragged interpretation had been correct. "I'm sorry. I hate to disappointment Monika...you, but I can't...I'm sorry," tears were flowing from her cheek.

He stepped forward, he knew this was a risk. He did not want to traumatize the young woman more, but if he was going to save her...and each moment he spent in this place, he was more reluctant that she ever come back here. First though he had to get her out, so he took the chance.

He did what came naturally as he dropped his voice two octaves, "Get your passport. Whatever things mean something to you...all of it. Leave the rest. Don't worry about your clothes or anything else. We will replace all those," he commanded.

He was not certain at first that his gamble was going to work. She chewed that lower lip again until he feared that it would open the cut again. Then she dropped her eyes and nodded slowly, "Yes, Sir," she replied as she turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Whether she was naturally submissive as his wife was or if she had been conditioned by a lifetime of abuse to obey, he did not know. Only time would tell. But one thing was certain. The abuse stopped now. This day. He would speak with Bjorn and Kirsty with Sven too when he was better. But from this point forward, the girl was under their protection.

He chuckled, his Mama had always complained about being the lone female. Pined for a daughter. At this rate, the women would outnumber them in no time. He knew too that once he explained the situation to Petrine, she would open her arms and heart to this young woman as she had to Kirsty...as she had tried with Greta even.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He emptied it of several hundred pounds and pressed it into the older woman's hands. He knew his language skills were not sufficient to translate into Polish or Slovakian, so he hoped that the woman had picked up enough English to understand, "Get out of here while you can."

The woman stared at the wad of notes in her hand for a moment as tears filled her eyes, "I can't. I promised until death do us part," she whispered.

He shook his head at the dejected and hopeless look in the woman's dark eyes, "She did not. She won't be coming back," he said with finality though he was not certain what they would do with the young woman, how they could even keep her in the country for that matter. But he was not having her come back to this mess that was for certain.

She was far quicker than he had thought she would be as Georgia appeared back down the hallway, carrying a backpack that looked much too heavy. Mikael reached for it, shouldering her burden that was far lighter than he had thought it would be. She smiled softly in gratitude and turned back to the woman.

"Mama, please, go to Uncle Davos. Promise me," she pleaded as closely as Mikael could translate anyway.

But the woman only shook her head and once more said that she could not. Though this time he was pleased to hear that she did not add more guilt to her daughter as the girl hugged her, "I will get you out somehow, Mama."

Mikael toyed with the idea of picking the older woman up and merely kidnapping her. But the truth as he had realized earlier was...you cannot save everyone. Especially those who do not want to be saved. As cruel as it sounded he remembered one of his mother's American sayings about... 'making your bed, now lie in it.'

At least she would no longer force her child to share it, he smiled as politely as he could manage as he ushered the younger woman out of the darkness and into her new life...whatever that might turn out to be, it had to be better than this that was for certain.

***

Bjorn would have sworn there was nothing more beautiful in the world than her face when he first woke up in the morning. But seeing Ægir's Captive for the first time in almost six months might be a damned close second as he and Mikael drove the van up to the dock. Like the little boy he had once been he wanted to throw open his arms and run for the boat.

But his father and uncles would not be waiting with smiles and laughter on deck. Sven and Mikael would not scold him for not waiting for Mama. Still the feeling of purpose and meaning in his life remained. He had missed the sea. His ship. His family. His home. And that was where he was going now.

He wished, of course, that the reason was a happier one. But they had spoken to Mama on the phone right before leaving the house. Mikael had even talked for a moment with Sven. So things were improving. It was just time to start re-building their lives.

And he had a new appreciation and understanding of how truly blessed his was. He had always loved it all. But now he understood, truly knew what it was like to live in the modern world. Civilized. He played the word over and over in his mind. His mother-in-law liked to throw it around whenever it suited her. But there was nothing civilized about that place.

The seas that they fished had more order to them than the chaos and unhappiness that man had created in places like London. The food chain, circle of life, whatever you called it, was more just than the artificial systems of man that allowed certain groups privilege over others, not because they were truly fitter, more suited to survival, but because of privilege, opportunities and the size of their bank accounts.

No, in that world, the truly fit, the survivors, who withstood far more than the privileged few ever could, were subjugated and enslaved by debt to inferior beings, who kept them in their place by whatever means necessary.

If Bjorn had detested the hierarchical system of town life, preferring the refuge of the Holding. Going into it only when absolutely necessary, at least there the natural order of things favored their family. They might not be loved, their unusual ways might be whispered about behind their backs, hell their 'cousins' might even occasionally grow so bold as to pick fights, but they were the top of the food change. Able to hold their own, defend what was theirs.

He forced himself to wait by the van as Kirsty's father pulled their car up next to them. He glanced at Mikael, saw his brother too smile at the sight of their wife and his daughter.