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Stories of Randvi and Eivor

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The shouts, the screaming, the swirling chaos and flying iron. The surge of bodies, the thrill of battle, the heat of the fire it caused within her. It was glorious, addicting. Something right out of the memories of her wild youth. Even if it was their village being raided, their people being attacked, Randvi felt no danger. These cowards would never prevail, not when it was just her and the few souls still awake so late defending the oncoming raiders. And certainly not with Eivor barrelling out of the longhouse like Fenrir incarnate, ready to devour the gods themselves, warcry ringing through the air as her axes hacked down anyone who dared get too near. 

It wasn’t till she got closer, slamming an axe into a raider several times and kicking his body away, that Randvi saw the grin on Eivor’s blood streaked face. Their eyes met, close enough now that no churning of battle separated them. It was only when Eivor spoke that Randvi realized she was grinning too.

“Does this stir your thirst for battle, Randvi?” Eivor laughed, throwing herself forward at the next raider.

“It does.” Oh did it. Her body was alive, heart racing faster than any drum as she fought by Eivor’s side.

Almost immediately, the thirst for battle was not the only thing stirring within Randvi. In their years, Randvi had never seen Eivor fight--truly fight--in the bloody, glorious carnage that was a true battle. She’d been confined to the village since her marriage, watching Eivor leave and return, blood soaked and newly scarred. 

But now, seeing the might and fury that was Eivor in person, seeing their clan’s venerated drengr cut down their enemies with her own two eyes...Randvi would never be able to forget the sight. 

The late night raid meant most had been asleep or preparing to retire, including Eivor. She was dressed in only her trousers and the loose bindings around her chest. Her muscles rippled with every swing of her axe and swift dodge from any weapon seeking to cut her blood splattered and sweat slicked skin. 

Eivor dodged a strike from one raider, Randvi blocked a second, and both warriors felled their foes together, moving to the next in step. This, this was everything she had been missing, had wanted. Side by side with Eivor striking down their enemies and earning glory in battle. Randvi had longed for this moment for years and now it was finally here. She never wanted it to end.

When the raiders dwindled down to nothing, Randvi didn’t hesitate, body acting only on instinct when she saw Eivor give chase to a single raider attempting to escape. The headstart he had gained him little in the end, not with a wolf at his heels. It was past the longhouse, just a short distance from the village that Eivor pounced, tackling the raider to the ground, arms wrapping around his neck as she gave a mighty pull, muscles bulging with effort before a sharp crack sounded through the forest. Eivor gave a sound that was between a laugh and a battle cry. The thrashing, frantic desire inside Randvi was all the more potent as she took in the sight--Eivor blood streaked and sweat slicked, muscles gleaming in Mani's ethereal light. 

Eivor looked like einherjar come from Valhalla itself. 

Maybe it was the battle lust still pumping through her veins, the call of glorious battle clouding all rational thought. Maybe Eivor's very presence was so powerful in this moment that it was impossible to resist. Or maybe Randvi had finally, somewhere inside herself, decided to stop denying herself what she wanted. 

Randvi moved first. That was the only moment of conscious choice she made before falling to the ravenous need inside her, allowing it to rule her for the first time in years. 

Eivor’s lips tasted of salted sweat, the tang of copper, of freedom. Randvi crashed into her like a wave, fingers gripping, scratching, digging into whatever purchase they could find on the cool, slick skin of Eivor’s arms and back, tugging her downwards. Tongues and teeth met, the kiss hard and bruising. There was no hesitance, no resistance from Eivor, fingers bruising in their grip as they grasped Randvi’s hip, pulling, demanding her closer. Fingers weaved into the tangled mess of hair, not allowing a hair's breadth of space between them. 

Lungs burning and screaming for air was all that caused Randvi to separate. But she would not stop, could not. Not when Eivor was so close, when she was finally so close to her having her heart and body's desire. 

“Randvi…” The natural rough, rasping quality to Eivor’s velvety steel voice was more rough and darkened than Randvi had ever heard it. If any vestiges of rational thought remained in her, they fled at the sound. At the lust clouded look in her salt blue eyes, visible only because Randvi was close enough to feel every breath on her skin.

Randvi said nothing, couldn’t, wouldn’t say anything. No thinking, no questioning. Her body had finally overruled her mind and she was only too happy to give it control. She sealed her mouth over Eivor’s once more, tongue daring, boldly exploring and claiming the warrior’s mouth, even if she could only claim it for tonight.

It was often impossible to tell what Eivor was thinking, but Randvi had no need for guessing with the way she reciprocated with a passion that burned hotter than Surtr's flames. 

Bark dug through her clothes and into her skin as Eivor pushed her against a nearby tree, hands roaming, gripping her hips and lifting without effort until Randvi's legs wrapped around her hips. Her grip was tight enough that Eivor's hands began roaming over her body with a fevered frenzy that Randvi returned. 

The lust consumed her, building in her body, heat pooling below her belly. The need for friction, for relief, for Eivor.  

Randvi gasped into the night air at the sting of teeth against her throat, Eivor kissing her, biting her, marking her. The heat was unbearable now. 

"Eivor," Randvi husked, her own voice foreign to her ears. Had she ever sounded this needy? This wanton? 

Her grip fumbled at first as she frantically grabbed Eivor's hand, pushing it beneath her trousers and against her slick heat. 

"I need you, please."

The sharp intake of breath against her neck sent a jolt right between Randvi's legs. 

It was only a heartbeat before Eivor's calloused, battle hardened fingers began to move. Sliding up and coating themselves in her dripping wetness, drenched by the time they pressed against her clit. 

Randvi's moan was swallowed by Eivor's mouth, fingers slipping away from her clit and to her entrance, two fingers pushing inside with no resistance, bottoming out at the knuckles, stretching her.

Randvi whimpered into Eivor's mouth, shifting her hips downwards, seeking, needing movement, friction. Eivor did not need any more urging, her fingers were pulling out and thrusting back in as hard as their angle would allow. 

Her lungs burned with the need for air but breaking her kiss with Eivor seemed impossible. At long last Randvi finally had her and no part of her wanted to give it up for even a heartbeat.

It was Eivor who broke the kiss, sucking in a rasping breath, body pressing her harder against the tree, eyes black from the darkness and lust staring at Randvi as though she were the only thing in sight. 

"E-Eivor," Randvi stuttered, blunted nails digging into the hot skin of Eivor's shoulders, feeling the shift and flex of her muscles with every movement of her hand. 

Their breaths mingled, Eivor pushed inside as deep as possible. Randvi gasped at the sting of teeth on her lower lip, her fingers curled, digging into the back of Eivor's tense neck, keeping her close. The air around them was thick and heavy with the heat of the passion that consumed them. She could feel it, and not even the cold of the night could make itself felt.

Eyes locked, Eivor drove into her. Wet, frantic kisses slipped away to panting breaths and mangled moans. Randvi felt herself nearing the edge of release and wanted nothing more than for Evior to send her flying over it.

Her legs trembled around Eivor's stomach, at this point she only stayed up because of Eivor's strength pinning her to the tree. 

When her release came, it was unexpected. She was already so close, Eivor staring at her, rough voice like steel wrapped in velvet husking her name was all it took.

Randvi bit down on Eivor’s shoulder, cutting off any sound of her release before it could carry through the woods. Her fingers dug into Eivor’s skin hard enough that she could feel the skin break beneath them. The sound Eivor made was something between a groan and a snarl and it had Randvi clenching harder around her fingers. 

Waves of pleasure crashed through her like a tempest. Her insides melted down to her feet, blood surging through her and leaving her almost dizzy, spots distorting her vision.

Eivor's fingers slowed, but didn't stop, every curl causing another wave to cascade through her, walls clenching harder around Eivor's fingers. 

Randvi pried her mouth from Eivor's shoulder, taking in a gasping breath that turned into a shuddering moan against Eivor's neck. The warrior was already building her up to another release. 

"E-Eivor-fuck I-"

"Eivor! Randvi! Where are you?"

The shout--Dag?--had both women freezing as though struck by jotun magic and reality set in through the barrier of lust that had separated them from the rest of the world. 

She was married to Eivor's brother. This shouldn't--even if there was no love in their marriage, she couldn’t put Eivor in this position. How could she have…but Eivor hadn't turned away she hadn’t--

"Eivor! Randvi!"

"Go." Eivor's scratchy voice was far from its usual steady tone. She pulled her hand from Randvi's trousers, setting her hastily on the ground before taking a large step back. The air suddenly felt frigid and biting. 

"I'll follow. Say you lost track of me. Go." She nodded towards the distant lights of the settlement. 

Randvi swallowed. This wasn’t how it was…"Eivor, I'm--"

"Randvi, no time. Go." Eivor gave her a ghost of a smile before turning serious again. Dag's shouting was closer now. Without a word Eivor darted away into the darkness of the trees, disappearing from view. And perhaps out of her reach forever. 

Shit. How could she have let this--how could she have done this? How could she do this to her brother? Randvi was his wife! Eivor had been there for the wedding, she had watched their union be sealed, she had toasted them! 

Even if there was no true love between them--something confirmed to her by both of them. But that didn’t give her the right to--

"Fuck!" Eivor slammed her axe into the nearest tree, letting the rage and self hatred fuel the action, hopefully burning it up and leaving her with some clarity. 

But there was none. Only the knowledge and guilt of what she had done. She'd…she'd done what she'd dreamed of for years. 

Gods, how long had she looked at Randvi like she was Freyja herself? Had there ever been a time when she hadn't? Had there been a time when the sight of flame red hair hadn't set her heart beating faster? When a teasing smile and voice hadn't sent a pang of longing through her entire body? 

Long had she dreamed of what it would be like, if Randvi were to want her, wanted Eivor to be hers, if Eivor could be hers. Dreams of what it would be like to touch her, to hold her. 

But that's all they had ever been. Dreams. All Eivor ever thought they would be. All they could ever be. 

But when Randvi had kissed her, had looked at her with that wild look in her eyes, the battle lust making them burn with a new life that drew Eivor in like a moth. She'd never had a chance to resist. Not Randvi, not when she was asking, demanding what Eivor had dreamed of since they met.

Eivor pulled her axe from the tree with a grunt, beginning to trudge back to the settlement with heavy steps and mind. Could she face Randvi again? Knowing what she felt like? What her lips tasted of and the way she felt in Eivor’s arms? Guilt knawed at her like a rabid wolf. Guilt for what she’d done, but even more for not finding even a shred of herself that regretted her actions. 

If this is all she could have, would ever have...gods, just the idea wrenched her insides apart, her heart beating harder and harder until it hurt. Why? Why couldn’t she have this when Sigurd had everything else? Neither he nor Randvi even wanted each other. Why could she not have some semblance of happiness, someone who didn’t look at her with expectation. Someone, the only one who had ever truly known her outside of Sigurd. 

“Eivor, thought you might have gotten lost in the woods.” Dag’s voice brought her to the present quick enough to catch his grin. 

“He was fast,” Eivor grunted, not breaking her stride. She needed to...move. She just needed to keep moving. 

“And put up a fight too by the looks of it.” Dag chuckled. “You look like you were mauled by a wolf, Eivor.”

That caused the towering warrior to pause, looking over her shoulder at the bloody marks in her back. Marks from Randvi’s nails. She could still feel her mouth over--

“Yeah.” She quickened her pace. “Bury the bodies. We--be ready to sail at first light.”

“Off again so soon?”

“Yeah, we--” A flash of orange drew Eivor’s eyes to the entrance of the map room, to Randvi, talking with several of the clan. Their eyes met and Eivor was quick to avoid them, guilt roiling inside her once more. “We need more alliances. Be ready.” Move. Just keep moving. Maybe somewhere along the way, Odin would grant her the answer, or Tyr would deliver his justice.