Chapter 6 Solveig
“I’ll fight you for it,” Gerrie said with a straight face. Solveig had just told her she would not be coming. She’d been on the last six, and now Solveig refused her request to come on another one. Solveig was tempted to throw a dagger at her friend.
“So funny, ha ha.”
“If you can appoint yourself to go on every raid, then I can be there every time to have your back,” Gerrie said, this time with a sincerity that told Solveig she wasn’t joking. Plus, Gerrie could beat her, so there was no point in fighting her. Solveig sighed in defeat.
“Latham is going to be furious when he finds out I’ve allowed you to come . . . again.” She rubbed her temples with her fingers. Twelve were chosen, and with herself and Gerrie, they now had fourteen of the fifteen who would carry out the raid.
Using Gerrie’s suggestion from earlier that morning, Solveig had selected two people from each battalion residing in camp. Initially, when she’d asked for volunteers, only four stepped forward.
It was no surprise that her three most trusted shieldmaidens, Veda, Signe, and Idunn, were willing to join her.
She wouldn’t have expected anything less from the three females who had pledged their loyalty to her a century ago.
She’d hoped they would volunteer—it was imperative that she had soldiers she could trust to keep themselves safe and not make any foolish mistakes.
The other eight were chosen based on age and family circumstances. It wasn’t fair to punish those without families, but Solveig was not in the mood to bury another mother or father that day. With one spot remaining, she knew what she was going to do, and it gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction.
Gerrie laughed when Solveig informed her who she was choosing and sent her on her way with an extra dagger tucked up her sleeve just in case things got ugly.
Striding through the camp with her face set in a way that no one dared approach her, she smiled wickedly to herself.
She would not be deterred from this course of action, it was the most joy she had felt all month.
Solveig marched straight to Commander Maddock’s tent and let herself in without preamble. She didn’t even blink when two females shrieked at her sudden entrance.
One of them toppled right from where she sat straddling Maddock’s face. The other dove under the covers, kneeling between his legs with her head down. Solveig surveyed the scene in disgust.
She’d rather burn in Muspelheim with the fire demons than touch any part of this male.
Maddock looked up to see what had interrupted his afternoon delight. He scowled at Solveig before reaching under the sheets, grabbing the female to place her mouth back on his cock.
Even under the covers, Solveig could see the female’s head moving up and down.
His smirk told her he expected her to leave.
She didn’t. Instead she plastered a lazy grin on her face and leaned against one of the tent’s support poles.
Maddock thrust his hips, eliciting a gagging sound from under the blanket.
With a satisfied expression, he reached down to lift the other Vanir back to his face. Solveig knew what he was trying to do, but she refused to leave. She stood there in silence while the female on his face made moaning sounds, crying out in obviously fake pleasure within seconds.
Solveig snorted. With what could only be described as lavish enthusiasm, the head under the covers increased its pace and Maddock, still holding the other female to his face, bucked his hips wildly, finishing with a loud gargled grunt. Solveig was pretty sure sex was now forever ruined.
He spanked the ass of the female on his face, and she swiftly removed herself, hurrying to put her dress back on.
She exited the tent without making eye contact with Solveig.
The other female also extricated herself as quickly as possible, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she scurried away.
Maddock took his time stretching, his elaborate braids of muddy blond hair tangled around his head. His beard was mussed from the disappointing oral he’d delivered, not that he cared. He stood straight up, naked as the day he was born, with his now flaccid shaft dangling below.
Solveig resisted another snort and a comment about the scene she’d just witnessed. He made no move to get dressed.
“You are to come on the raid tonight,” Solveig said with authority, still in her relaxed position by the entrance.
“There’s a better chance of you coming on my cock than me joining you on the raid,” he retorted. He tried to sound nonchalant, but he couldn’t hide his indignance at the tone she’d used.
“The group leaves after supper,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Meet us at the outpost promptly at seven. This is not a request. This is an order from your direct superior. You will be there, or your life will be forfeit,” she said steadily.
He glared at her. “How dare you give me orders. I—”
“I dare because I have command of this army. Unless you are a reigning monarch, anyone who comes into my camp is under my leadership. This includes you. I have direct orders from the Queens of Asgard to send whomever I deem necessary on these raids. Congratulations on being necessary for the first time in your life.”
Solveig could almost see the steam spilling from his ears, and she almost cracked a smile. She didn’t balk when he started towards her.
If Maddock had been a Giant of old, Solveig would’ve treated the situation much differently.
After Ragnarok, when Yggdrasil re-formed, a piece of each realm and its people had melded into one world, most of the races acclimated, but the Giants were not able to find the space they needed to thrive.
Their mountainous size could not be sustained in this new world. With every generation since the fall of the gods, the Giants diminished in size until they stood only head and shoulders above the other races.
“I am a prince of Jotunheim. You have no authority over me!” he bellowed.
Solveig did not react, which appeared to provoke him further.
He stepped into her space, too close for a casual conversation.
His hot breath coated her face, no doubt in an attempt to get a rise out of her. It would not be so easy.
“You think you’ll be able to force me, you bit—”
Solveig interrupted him again, though not with her words.
He must have forgotten he was butt naked. Solveig had calmly flicked the dagger loose from its hiding place at her wrist and into her hand, placing it on a very sensitive, now soft, part of him. He froze. She pressed it just a little harder. Maddock winced.
“You will be at the outpost at seven sharp this evening. If you are even one second late, your balls are mine. And if you fail to show, your life is forfeit. Am I clear?” She peered into his black eyes. They were murderous, but he hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d pulled the dagger.
He gave her a barely perceptible nod and backed away. Solveig stared at him for one extra moment before exiting the tent. Giving her back to the Giant was a risk, but she was certain she’d successfully leashed him for the moment.