The Shieldmaiden’s Trial
The icy wind howled across the fjord, but Freyja, the fearsome shieldmaiden, felt only the heat of her own desire. She had returned from battle victorious, her body glistening with sweat beneath her fur cloak and steel bindings. The weight of her heavy, exposed breasts was a constant distraction, but one she had long since learned to wield as a weapon… temptation was as sharp as any blade.
Her warlord awaited her in the great hall, watching with hunger as she strode forward, her golden mane wild from the fray. The thick collar around her throat gleamed in the firelight, a symbol of her submission.
Only in his presence did she surrender.
“You fought well, my fierce one,” he rumbled, stepping closer, his rough fingers tracing the metal of her collar before tightening possessively. “Now you will prove your loyalty… in another way.”
Freyja shivered – not from the cold, but from the promise in his voice. She dropped her shield with a heavy clang, tilting her head back in defiance, though the wicked gleam in her emerald eyes betrayed her eagerness.
“Then claim me, my lord,” she whispered, pressing herself against him. “Show me I am yours.”
And as the torches flickered, the conqueror and his shieldmaiden waged a far more intimate battle.
One where surrender was the sweetest victory of all.