Friday, April 19, 2019

Forging Freyja - Chapter 13.4

Royal Palace
Lordinax
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery


27 February, 3150




      Freyja lay flat on her back on the bed, her eyes closed as her breathing steadied and her pulse slowly returned to a resting rate. Grand Mistress Claire sat beside her, leaning back against a pillow, her legs toward Freyja's head and her right hand gently stroking Freyja's belly.

     "Are you going to recover, my dear?"she said playfully.

     Freyja waited a few seconds before responding, her eyes still closed. "From that? I'm not entirely sure I want to recover, my lady."

     Claire laughed softly. "Good to know I've not lost my touch, then."

     Freyja opened one eye and looked at the other woman. "I would hardly think you lack for opportunities to practice, my lady.

      Claire patted her belly gently and feigned a look of indignation. "How sharper than a serpent's tooth, my dear. I may be in high demand, but nearly all my potential partners either want something from me, or else are so eager to please me that it's....how shall I say, off putting. It's quite rare to find someone where we both know what we want and what we're getting. Even rarer to find it in a woman."

     Freyja stared at the beautiful crystalline patterns in the ceiling. "I'd never been with a woman before. It was more....liberating than I imagined. But I also don't think I've ever felt so...I don't know....safe."

     Mistress Logan chuckled. "I forget that you're such a young thing, dear god, I'm old enough to be your mother just about. And you are safe here, my dear. That feeling of safety and security, it comes from the intersection and understanding of each of our powers. Sex is just like life, it's so much better with an understanding of control and the needs and desires of those around you. You'll learn that as you get older."

     Freyja glanced down at Claire. "Do you have any children, Mistress?"

     She nodded. "Yes. I have a daughter about your age, and a son a few years older. They're both off serving in the Marian Legions at the moment."

     Freyja looked puzzled. "You don't have them here, grooming them to lead?"

     Claire shook her head. "No. They're both warriors, and our military here is far too small for the kind of advancement and training they want. Plus it partially helps keep the Marians off our backs. My son, I'm not sure he has what it takes to be a real leader. And my daughter, she has too much ambition. Hopefully that will temper with time."

     Freyja raised an eyebrow. "And yet you're taking quite a risk with me, handing me so much power so close to you, and you hardly know me."

     The Grand Mistress smiled coyly. "Not really. I told you, I read people quite well. I know you better than you think. You're drawn to power, you like power, and yet you are smart enough to realize that I am a focus for your power. Without me, you have no way to exercise it, to live in it, to revel in it. And I, in turn, am made all the more powerful by having you as a powerful vassal. Our power each grows and sustains the other. And we both know it."

     Freyja smiled. "You make it sound like I crave power, like some megalomaniac. I don't, you know. I never wanted this, it wasn't what I set out for."

     Claire looked thoughtfully at her. "Perhaps you didn't seek it out, and aren't yet willing to admit you want it. But it is as natural for you as walking, drinking, or breathing. I know how you feel." She paused for a moment. "There is one thing about you I don't understand, though. Do you mind if I ask something personal?"

     Freyja laughed. "Mistress, I think we're well past worrying about asking personal questions. Ask whatever you like."

     "The Pirate. Why did you kill him? And the way that you did. It...surprises me."

     Freyja's smile faded, and she sat up on her elbows. "Should I not have? You think I did the wrong thing?"

     Mistress Claire raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say that. He was a nuisance and a trouble maker, he deserved to die. But the other pirates you either shipped off or threw in jail. But the leader you killed, up close and personal, in front of thousands of people. It's not your style, it doesn't fit your pattern. It perplexes me."

     Freyja sat up and stared at her hands in silence for a moment, before looking up. "It was personal. It was revenge. I killed him because he raped me." 

     Mistress Logan was silent for a moment, before putting a hand on Freyja's shoulder. "I'm sorry, dear. You don't have to talk about it. I didn't know or I wouldn't have asked."

     Freyja shook her head. "No, it's alright. And yes, I do have to talk about it. I haven't really been able. But like I told you, I feel safe here."

     Claire laid back and pulled Freyja into her, placing her head against her chest and holding her. Freyja clutched back like a friend holding on for dear life.

     "It was shortly after Christmas. Raiden Trogg had appeared at the Bakker's estate and invited himself to dinner to share the news of his increased extortion demands. After dinner, he sort of just assumed he could have me, like I was just some piece of the Bakker's property to share, like a chair or a bed. Ned tried to object, which of course made it even worse. It made it personal for Trogg. He was going to mark his territory. At that point, he was either going to take me or hurt someone else, maybe the lady of the house, maybe the children. So I agreed. I went with him. I was stupid and arrogant, it was my fault I suppose."

     Mistress Logan stopped Freyja and stared into her eyes. "You must never believe that. He was a monster, and ultimately, you put him down for it."

     Freyja continued. "I thought I could talk him out of it, or outwit him, or escape or something. But once he got me cornered, it was only a matter of time. He was bigger, stronger, faster. Once he got hold of me, it was over. He shot me up with some cocktail of drugs that messed with my mind, set my senses on fire. Most of it was a blur. I blanked it all out. I don't actually know what happened, not really. But I knew enough. When I finally woke up with him gone, I hurt so bad, I felt as though I was dead. Like the devil himself had just had me for his whore."

     Claire stroked Freyja's hair. "There's not a soul in the galaxy who blames you for killing him, my dear."

     "That's the thing, my lady. I could have killed him and I didn't at first. I could have killed him in battle, put my hatchet through his cockpit. I could have had him shot. But even when I was standing there next to him, I still wasn't going to kill him."

     Claire looked down at Freyja. "What changed, dear?"

     The anger returned to Freyja's eyes for an instant. "Even bound and defeated, he wasn't repentant. He mocked me. Told me how I cried and begged during the whole thing. That's when I snapped. It was like I realized he was still claiming power over me. I had beaten him and taken him prisoner, and he still laid claim to me. And I was not going to have that. So I lost it, and killed him."

     Claire was quiet for a few moments. "I told you I was good at reading people, that I understood you. And I do. It makes sense now. He was trying to hold power over you. You're not one to let that happen. Especially at that time in your life. You must already have been near a breaking point, having to live as a slave. That you kept yourself under control is a testament to your will. Don't ever forget that."

     They lay in silence for several minutes before Claire spoke. "Thank you for trusting me with that, Freyja. Who else knows what happened?"

     "Just the Bakkers and Gunnar. I suppose some of the pirates might know as well, but that's not really of much consequence."

     Claire kissed Freyja gently on the head. "Before you say yes definitively to my proposal, I want to make sure you understand two conditions I'm putting asking in return, beyond swearing fealty to me. First, you mustn't be an absentee lord. You're smart, and I trust you, but you are also new at this game. I want you close, so that I can guide you and protect you, at least in the beginning. I'm not saying you're to be a prisoner on Lummatii, but I don't want you running off back home to fight battles or chase glory."

     Freyja nodded. "I understand. It will take some time to get settled anyway. I'll have to find somewhere to live of my own, and I'll be raising a child as well."

     Mistress Claire smiled. "The second one, I'm not entirely sure how hard it will be for you. You are going to have to trust me on this. Sometime after I announce that you are to be made Duchess of Lummattii but before you give birth to your child, Gunnar Logan will ask for your hand in marriage. You must refuse him."

     Freyja looked puzzled. "I don't understand. How would you know what he will do, and why is it so important that I say no if it happens?"

     The Grand Mistress sighed softly. "You are going to be an empowered noble soon. You must start to think like one. The moment I grant you a title, you become instantly more powerful than Gunnar Logan. The moment your child is born, he or she also instantly becomes more powerful than Gunnar Logan, as your heir. If anything were to happen to you, your status and power transfers to your child. Gunnar might try to insert himself as Regent or something, but that's as far as he would get, and he would have to real claim to power. If you two marry, he won't become heir to your title, but he would have significantly more power both as your husband and as the father of your child. You I trust with power. Him I do not."

     Freyja frowned. "That seems awfully Machiavellian for him. I don't see him as that kind of person. He wouldn't do anything to harm me just to gain status or power."

     Claire traced a finger along Freyja's jaw, then down to her collarbone. "Don't be blinded by love or lust, dear. People can also change. How will he react, for example, if your child grows up and doesn't have Gunnar's deliciously chiseled features. I can do math, dear. Have you prepared for the possibility that your child is not Gunnar's? No matter what, the child will always be yours, but 
it may not be his."

     Freyja nodded pensively. "I know. I want to believe it won't matter to him. But I suppose I have to be prepared for the fact that it might."

     Claire nodded. "It's not just that either. With power, you'll find open many liaisons, as tonight has shown. How do you think he will take it when you decide to have your way with some strapping young palace guard, or walks in on one of your lady servants making sure you're quite relaxed before a long day at court, or your Grand Mistress decides to come for a state visit and tie you to the bed to reassert her place of dominance? Or are you going to swear off all that and be chaste except for your loyal husband?" She chuckled. "As if he could control himself. You should have seen the poor boy yesterday, practically begging for me. I hope I'm not making you jealous, dear."

     Freyja knew enough by now to know she was being tested. "He should be the jealous one, Mistress. He's the one that missed out."

     Claire smiled coyly. "And what if I wanted a taste of him before you all leave for home?"

     Freyja stuck her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. "I might pout if you didn't invite me as well, but I would get over it."

     Claire laughed playfully. "Don't give me ideas, dear. Are you sure you're not Canopian?"

     Freyja laughed back. "Capellan by birth and citizenship, half Republic by blood."

     The Grand Mistress looked at her quizzically. "Your father, I take it?"

     Freyja nodded. "He was, well, he is still I suppose, a Republic Knight and a diplomat. My brother and I were both born during a rare period of detente where someone thought it was a good idea to send a liason to the Republic Armed Forces to soothe Capellan/Republic relations, and then someone was silly enough to take my mother's name, Temperance, literally and thought she'd be good for the post. She and my father got on well enough, but there was no way it was ever going to work long term. They were both too patriotic for that."

     Claire rubbed Freyja's shoulder. "I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

     Freyja smiled. "It's alright. It wasn't nasty, and neither my brother or I resented it. My parents were both smart enough to realize it wouldn't work. From there, they just decided it was better if we both grew up in the Confederation. I never really saw him much after they split. It was after the blackout, I was maybe five or so. When I decided to set off on my own, I thought about trying to find him again, but by that time, the walls of Fortress Republic were long since up."

     "Word is out now that the walls are down. Of course, who knows if there even is a Republic anymore, or if it's some Clan ruling the shots. Or even the Capellans. Maybe your mother has crossed the border to give him a good ass kicking. You never know."

     Freyja shook her head. "God, I wonder what my mother would say now. Never mind my brother. Sold into slavery, pregnant without firm knowledge of the father, and consorting lustfully with strange women."

     Claire laughed again. "I resent that last part. But in all seriousness, If she is anything like what I think she is, she must be proud. You've struck out on your own, won victory in battle, earned yourself a title that should rival hers, and you'll soon give her a grandchild. We mothers should all be so lucky."

     "Well, I doubt I'll be seeing either of them for some time, so it doesn't matter. There's just the here and now."

     Grand Mistress Logan held Freyja tight to her. "Rest for now, dear. We can have fun springing this news on the boys in the morning."

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