Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories (55 page)

“After Kylar and I were married, Astrid happily handed over most of the obligations she inherited when her mother died. It’s only fitting, since I’m the one who will be Queen some day.”

Talia laughed. “Queen! It still sounds absurd. Unreal. I remember the day I arrived here on Gadolinium. I stepped out of the Star Portal into utter chaos. The city deserted, Tabun roaming the streets. All I wanted to do was turn around and teleport straight back to Earth. Now – I can’t imagine spending my life anywhere else.”

She reached for Selena’s hand. “I can see that you’re really upset. Tell me about it.”

“I don’t know if I can stay here, Talia. On Gadolinium. It’s so cold and dark most of the time. I love Haldor. But I’m not sure it’s enough. He’s gone so often. If he’s not out hunting, he’s at another one of those endless Council meetings. I try to keep busy but there’s only so much I can find to do around the house. I miss my work back on Earth, miss feeling useful.”

“And when we’re together, when we’re not...” She paused, still embarrassed at saying the words out loud. “When we’re not making love, lately he seems like a different person. Distant. Closed off. Pretty soon I find myself responding the same way. After all, it’s easier.”

Talia nodded. “Of course. It’s the way we were both raised, you and I.”

“But I don’t want to be that person any more. I like the woman I’ve become since I’ve been with him. I laugh, I even cry sometimes. And that’s good. I
feel
things. Those artificial hormones we took on Earth – they turned us into nothing more than cyborgs. Calm, yes. Rational? Definitely. And barely alive. I don’t want to go back to Earth. To that. But being here, feeling alone and unloved so much of the time...It hurts. I don’t know how much longer I can bear it.”

Her voice trailed off.

“May I offer some advice?”

Selena nodded and Talia went on.

“When I first came here, I depended on Kylar’s sister Astrid to give
me
advice. She was wonderful. So open, so caring. But she was young. If I learned one thing in my training in the diplomatic corps, it’s that some knowledge comes only with age. That’s why so many cultures revere the wisdom of their old women.”

“You know our sister planet Iridia was settled by the Anasazi Indians. They migrated from Earth long ago, even before the Vikings came here to Gadolinium. Their warriors are known for being strong and fierce. But they follow an ancient custom. When tensions rise and conflict breaks out between their tribe and another, the Council convenes. They debate going to war, with every brave having his say. Then they vote. If every man agrees that war is the only answer, they do one more thing before rushing into battle.”

“What’s that?”

“They go to the oldest woman in the tribe, the one they all call Mother, and lay their case out before her. If she agrees with their decision, they declare war. But if she doesn’t, no matter how hot their blood boils in seeking vengeance, they are not allowed to solve their conflict by fighting. They must reconvene the Council and find another way to settle their differences.”

Talia laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ve slipped into my ‘lecturer’ mode. Along with the rest of my duties, Kylar asked me to teach a class on interplanetary relations to our young ones. It’s become one of my favorite things to do here. Challenging their minds, opening them to new ideas from new worlds. Guiding them in learning how to choose which to embrace and which to shun.”

“I’m taking a long time to get to my point. My advice to you is – go to someone else for advice. Someone wise. I’ve only been here a short while longer than you have. I’m still learning Gadolinean ways. There’s one person I’d trust to give me counsel if I had a decision as big as the one you’re facing.”

“Who is that?”

“Ingrid. Kylar’s old nanny. And I do mean old. She actually served as King Sigrun’s nanny, if you can imagine that. She raised him, and then Kylar and Haldor as well, after Queen Astra died. She’s here in the Palace, still divides her time between the nursery and her healing practice. She’s been around a long time...and she knows your man better than anyone.”

“You know, I have an idea.” Talia sounded excited. “You need something to do while you’re here. Why don’t you help Ingrid with her medical practice? You’re certainly well qualified. You know more about healing the human body than anyone on this planet. You could get to know her, maybe even trust her enough to confide in her. I really think you’d find her perspective helpful.”

“I know how to operate machines that heal. But you don’t have any modern technology here. I’m not sure I’d be of any use.” Selena sounded doubtful.

“Well, then, maybe you’d learn something new yourself,” Talia replied, her tone less gentle and more matter-of-fact. “Besides, as you said, you don’t have anything better to do.”

Selena sighed. “You’re right. I might as well be useful, instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself.”

Later that day, Selena found her way to a small suite of rooms behind the enormous kitchen at the rear of the Palace. It had a private entrance through the walled garden, now blanketed with snow.

She clutched the fur-lined cloak Haldor had given her tighter around her with one hand and rapped at the arched wooden door with the other.

The door opened with a creak. Selena found herself face to face with a figure that could have stepped straight off one of the murals on the Palace wall. The one depicting the Nornar. Those three goddesses, ancient witches all, who determined the fate of every Viking babe.

Unlike the other Gadolinean women, she stood well below Selena’s shoulders. The shapeless black gown trailing on the floor hinted that the years had robbed her of height. Wrinkled hands with prominent blue veins poked out of the long sleeves and her face was hidden by the dark hood of the gown pulled up to cover her head.

“Come in, child.” Her voice was surprisingly strong.

The woman opened the door further, ushering her in. She pushed back her hood to reveal a crown of silver braids wound around her head in an elaborate design. The old lady cocked her head up to meet Selena’s eyes. Selena barely stifled a gasp.

That face. She’d never seen so many wrinkles. On Earth, people routinely lived to 180 or more. But hormone injections kept them looking young till they’d gone well past their first century. Then they aged gradually. Gently.

Selena had seen mummies in museums with faces in a better state of preservation. Except for the eyes. Piercing blue eyes that bored into hers. Keen. Sharp. Alive.

“My name...my name is Selena Reston,” she stammered. “I’m...”

“I know who you are, dear. You’re the Earther who saved my Haldor’s life. Please, come and sit by the fire. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

“I’d like that.” Selena took a seat on one of the cushioned wooden chairs. The old lady went over to a cupboard and took down two earthenware mugs. She reached up to break off a sprig from one of the bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters, crumbled it between her gnarled fingers, and divided the handful of gray-green leaves and dried flowers between the two mugs. Carrying them to the fire, she filled the mugs from an iron kettle sitting on the hot stones lining the hearth and handed one to Selena.

“Let it steep for a bit before you try to drink it, dear. It’s my own blend, from herbs I grow here in the Palace garden. I hope you like it.”

Selena took a moment to look around. The room was small. Made even smaller by all the items crowded into it. Jars lined the shelves on one whole wall, bearing labels of common herbs interspersed with substances she’d never heard of. Another wall held a series of wooden cupboards, all of them decorated with fanciful designs. Viking longboats battling sea serpents. Depictions of Norse gods and goddesses, some intertwined in blatantly erotic poses. Flowers, trees, animals – only about half of which Selena could name. Every flat surface was crowded with carved wooden figurines, pewter plates, pottery.

And everywhere, a riot of color. Bright yellow curtains at the one small window,  gaily patterned rugs layered one over another on the stone floor. Pillows piled on every chair and bench, some solid blocks of color, some a patchwork of fabric scraps.

Ingrid saw her taking it all in and chuckled. “A bit much, I know. But people bring me gifts. They’ve put so much time and effort into making them, I can’t bear to hurt their feelings by not having them on display the next time they drop by. And all this color...well, being surrounded by it brightens the gray days.”

“It’s...” Selena stopped, lost for words. “It’s wonderful!”

“It’s love, child.” Ingrid smiled and the wrinkles, the silver hair disappeared. Selena saw only the beautiful woman she’d once been. “I never feel old or alone, surrounded by symbols of love from people whose lives are a bit better because of me.”

“Now – tell me. How are you finding life here on Gadolinium?”

Skillfully, the old woman drew her into conversation. Selena found herself talking about missing her work, her difficulties adapting to the harsh climate – everything except the problems in her relationship with Haldor.

Finally she stopped to take another sip from her half-empty cup. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. I didn’t mean to go on like that. I really came here to offer my services. Talia thought I might be of help to you in your healing practice.”

“I told her I’m not sure how much use I’d be,” she went on, waving a hand at the jars and bundles. “I know nothing of these natural remedies. My work has always been done with machines.”

“Your machines are truly wondrous. I’ve seen Haldor. You restored him to youthful vigor, mended his broken body. Our people have much to gain from such knowledge.”

Ingrid took the mug from her hand. “Your tea must be cold by now. Let me get you another cup. This time I’ll add in a few drops of honey.” She filled it, poured in a thick stream of the golden liquid and handed it to Selena, then watched carefully as she drank. “Are you feeling any better now, dear?”

Selena considered the question, swirling the leaves around in the bottom of her mug before she answered. “Yes, I guess I am,” she replied slowly.

Ingrid nodded. “Sometimes the only skill a healer needs is the ability to listen. That – and the right blend of tea. Those tiny yellow flowers I mixed in? They restore a feeling of well-being. A cup of that tea every morning will go a long way toward banishing the darkness in your mind that comes with the darkness outside.”

She shook her head and made a tsking sound. “Haldor should have brought you here long ago. It’s hard to go from warmth and sunshine to these gray days. Sometimes our bodies need a little help. I like to think those tiny flowers hold precious yellow rays of sunlight. When we drink them in, they carry that light and warmth into our Souls.”

“And the honey?”

Ingrid winked. “That’s to make nasty medicine taste better so people will take it.”

Selena laughed, then stopped, a look of surprise on her face. “I haven’t laughed in a long time. I forgot how good it feels.”

“Laughter is good too. Talking, and laughter, and a cup of hot tea shared with a friend. Healing the Soul is just as important as healing the body. Sometimes even more so.” She gave Selena a shrewd glance. “I’m guessing that having someone who looked like you to nurse him back to health went a long way toward speeding Haldor’s recovery. Gave him a reason to get strong again.”

Selena blushed. “He
was
highly motivated. Caring for him was a challenge sometimes. He wasn’t very good at following instructions.”

Ingrid nodded. “Always headstrong. That’s my boy. Makes up his mind to do something and charges ahead full on.” She sighed. “He can be so intent on keeping a body from toppling off a cliff he doesn’t realize he’s stomping on their toes the whole time.”

Ingrid got painfully to her feet. “I’ve kept you here long enough, child. They’ll be expecting you in the Great Hall soon for dinner. Come back tomorrow morning, at first light. I have a busy day ahead of me and Princess Talia is right. I can certainly use your help.”

Chapter Four

––––––––

T
he days flew by. Every morning Selena reported to Ingrid’s quarters while it was still dark. The first hour was spent learning about the various herbs and other substances in the sealed jars, some of them dubious-looking. One particular jar held a crushed-up brownish substance that smelled especially noxious. She swore she’d seen what looked like a bit of insect leg in the scoopful Ingrid mixed into a flask before handing it to one of her patients.

People arrived in an unending stream. Burns and sprains and cuts were treated with various potions, then gently wrapped in bandages. Those with sore throats and coughs and children who came in crying with one hand covering an ear got a big spoonful of honey, each with a different blend of crushed herbs stirred in.

And everyone got a cup of tea and time to sit by the fire and chat. Often a sick child ended up dozing in mama’s lap. Selena couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard a grateful mother say “This is the first real rest my little one has gotten in days. And it’s the first time I’ve had a few moments without the ceaseless crying – not to mention the pleasure of having another adult to talk to!” Later, mother and child would head out the door, both with the look of pain gone from their eyes.

Despite being constantly busy, Ingrid never rushed anyone out. Each patient was treated to the same care and concern. One old man came in every few days complaining of aches and pains, always migrating to a different part of his body. Ingrid sent him home each time with a different tea or potion, but nothing seemed to work. Selena suspected his maladies were made up just to get attention. She finally brought it up after he’d stopped by and lingered for so long in front of the fire that Ingrid invited him to stay and share their midday meal.

Ingrid nodded pleasantly. “Well of course they are, dear. Gunter lost his beloved wife a few months ago. She doted on him, and he on her. He has nothing better to do now than to mourn and dwell on every little twinge that comes with age. I invited him to share our dinner because now he’s beholden to me. When next he comes, I’ll mention I’m getting low on firewood. His Viking sense of drengr will require him to repay a favor. There’s nothing really wrong with him. He’ll get out in the fresh air, chop wood, feel like a man again when he brings it to me.”