T’was the proper season. The barley crop had been harvested, the shearing done. My man. Goodness, the sound of that. Ian asked my father in the spring, and now that the bans had been observed, we were free to wed.
The village was excited. Everyone thought that Ian and I would be a good match, ever since I was a child. The day before the festivities, the children ran out and picked wildflowers. The wedding was to be done during the harvest festival. My mother took my dress out beyond the village, and set it across the sweet grass to bleach white in the sun. We spent most of our spare time over the summer making the dress and other things I’d need for my new home.
Ian had also been busy over the summer. He built our home near the edge of the village, where out the window we would be able to see the sheep grazing in the distance. The mud on the wattle had dried nicely, and t’would be a snug home. He’d built the few pieces of furniture we’d need, the bed, tied well with rope, and the mattress full of heather. He whitewashed the inside, so it seemed bright and airy.
We’d met with Father, where we learned about our new roles. He explained what the Latin said in the service, and how loving each other was an extension of God’s love for us.
He also explained about Prima Nocte.
One of the greater lords, an Englishman, had proclaimed that the lords under him have the right and duty to bed each woman under his rule on the night of her wedding. Ian turned green at the notion. My Ian is a brave sort, but it was the law, and nothing he could do. Father looked understandingly. A woman should pair with her husband; “Therefore, what God hath put together, let no man separate.” He had no love of the law.
Of course, what Father didn’t share with us then was why our lord felt so inclined to force such a sinful law upon his good people.
The eve before the wedding, Father asked me to come to chapel to pray with him. When I entered, I saw the midwife speaking with him. I attempted to stay in the shadow, as I didn’t wish to interrupt a private matter.
“Evie, come my child. Tilda is here for us tonight,” he called out when he heard the door shut behind me. I slowly made my way up to the altar.
“Before we start our prayers, my dear, we must purify ourselves. Drink this.”
The midwife handed me a cup. “Drink it all now dear.”
I sputtered on the first sip, “T’is bitter!” Then, seeing the look they gave me, nodded and did my best to finish the drink.
We knelt before the altar, praying that I would follow the good and true path of wife. We prayed to that men in power would see the sinful nature of Prima Nocte. We prayed to God to forgive me and to console my soon to be husband for the morrow. “in Deus, Patri et Spiritus Sanctus,” the father intoned, as we all crossed ourselves. We bowed to the altar and moved away.
“Evie,” the midwife called to me.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Expect your humours to attend you in two to three days.” She looked at Father. “The purifying drink will bring them on.”
Certainly, I will go to hell for this! It is sinful! I gasped aloud.
“Yes, dear. I know. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And I tell you in Father’s presence, you are still a child of God, and will not be punished in this life or the next for what you’ve done this night.” Father nodded, blushing.
“T’will protect your womb from a seed that does not belong there. When your cycle starts, our Lord will know he has not sired off you, as he has not done off a girl from this village in these past years. Have you not heard what they call him in court?”
“Now, Tilde, we do not need to pass around court gossip. It has served us well to remind our Lord that he cannot bend God’s will and command. You must submit your body; there is nothing we can do about that. But we have protected your family.”
“Thank you, Father. Thank you, Tilde. I must go and tell Ian. He t’will be relieved. By your leave?” Father nodded, and I hurried out of the chapel.
I explained to Ian, who then laughed. “I always wondered how it was that there were never any of his seed running about here. It does take trouble off my mind. Not that I don’t want you round with our child. I look forward to seeing you like that. Often. Ours will be a big, happy family. You’ll see, Annsachd.” He whispered this last to me, his mouth close to my ear. I turned, so I could feel his lips against my cheek.
The morning was bright, and I danced about in glee. “Thank you God, for such a gift!” My mother smiled at me for speaking such out loud. I was a bit sad, no longer would I be in this home, most of my belongings had already been moved to the new house. A few linens, a few changes of clothes, as I would wear my wedding gown to the Lord’s keep.
Mother and my sister helped me put on the dress, tying the laces, and tucking in bits of rosemary for remembrance and late heather to match the crown the children had woven for me. We walked carefully through the dusty street to the stone chapel.
Everyone was there, the entire village; my rivals, my friends, my family. My father walked me to the altar, so he could speak when it was time to give me away. My big, bold, brash father, bless his heart had tears in his eyes.
I smiled at Ian as we knelt beside each other and received communion from Father. We stood up as he declared the benediction. Ian leaned into me, his lips soft against mine, while his strong arms gently wrapped around me.
I’d never been happier.
Then we were all outside, enjoying the bright fall sun. The pits had been opened so there were roast meats and harvest vegetables and late fruits, honey cakes and mead. Ian never left my side, touching me as he never felt free to do before. His hand on my waist felt warm and possessive. His hand would come up, and stroke my loose flowing hair, as though he’d never truly felt how soft it could be.
We ate, we danced, we spoke with friends. We knew our time was growing short. So did the village, and they pretended to not notice when we snuck off by ourselves. We knew the punishment if the Lord did not receive a virgin. But we touched, and murmured and caressed. His lips that were always soft and careful, were now full of passion, heat and desire. I wanted nothing more than to melt into him. To let him take me to our new home, and make me into a woman, HIS woman. I murmured against his lips, that I was his wife, his woman, my heart and soul. His strong arms crushed me tighter to him. My own arms squeezed him as well. Slowly, we drew apart, and returned to the festivities, knowing we would be called shortly anyway.
We returned, with our arms around each other, both of us just wanting to get the next twelve hours over with. We didn’t have to wait long before our Lord rode up on a grey charger.
“Where is the bride I am to see?” The Lord looked over the gathering. You could see he once sat proudly on this steed, but his posture had started to crumble and sag into his gut. His wig was beginning to look weedy, and the white hair only made his face look more sallow.
I attempted to step forward, but Ian’s grip tightened around my waist.
“Annsachd, please don’t make this harder for me. It is not my choice, but t’is my duty.” I whispered then touched his hand. He slowly released me, but followed me closely as I moved toward Lord Farrington.
“I am here, M’lord.”
Ian took my hand and turned me to him. His lips fell to mine softly, whispering softly against my lips, before taking me boldly, his tongue an invader in my mouth. Then his kisses became caresses until he moved away. I didn’t want him to, until I heard Lord Farrington clear his throat. I blushed mightily, realizing it probably wasn’t the first time, and I had not even noticed. Ian lifted me by my waist as though I t’were a bundle of twigs and placed me before Farrington.
“M’lord, I realize I cannot stop what happens this night. But harm her, and even the angels will not protect you. I give you my oath.” Farrington, whom, I would guess had heard many words such as this on similar wedding days, simply nodded curtly.
Lord Farrington’s arms were around me as he held the reins, the horse going at a brisk canter. It was obvious he wanted to reach the keep before dark. My body stayed tense, since there was no way to truly hold onto the horse the way I was on it, only relying on M’lord’s arms to keep me from toppling into the horse’s hooves.
It was dusk when he pulled to a stop at the gate. A number of people were waiting there. I suddenly felt shy. I’m just a country girl, not some high raised child. He handed me over to a kindly looking maid.
“Bathe her then bring her to my chamber.”
…End of the part1. To be continued..
Title: Annsachd MF First WL
Duration: 0:00
Submited by: Administrator
Category: preggosex
Added on: February 20th, 2009
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