Valkyrie

She was ten when she began her training to become a Valkyrie. Her father was a famous Warrior with his own glorious battle songs. She knew what to expect on battlefields, she ached for the thrill, the blood of her enemies.

But she had to wait and train for six years to wield the sword in her first battle Six years which felt like eternity. It was then that she heard about Mothers.

Mothers, she was told, gave birth to the Warriors and Valkyries.

She had never understood why the marriage of her parents was so odd. Never understood why her father shouldn’t have decided to settle down with her mother. On that day she heard that she was not destined to become a legend, a Valkyrie to lead armies, to wipe out whole empires. She had decided to become one, but she would never be a leader. That was bestowed on the children of Mothers.

The best warriors were chosen for Mothers (and her father had been one of the best) and they would father one child after another until the Mother herself decided to settle down.

“Stop now”, her leader had ordered after one too many questions. “If you want to know more, speak to Sváfa, she was a Mother a long time ago.”

Sváfa told her about men who never lost a battle, never bowed down, who fucked her raw. Her eyes lightened, her gaze dreamy. Her white hair and wrinkly face seemed to glow.

“There were many”, she said with a rasp in her voice, “too many to count. Sometimes I had ten a day. I was tired and didn’t know if I could come another time, if I could enjoy it so soon again, but I savoured every day and if I had told them to stop, they would have done it instantly.”

“What about your children? Did you see them? Were they taken from you?”, she asked, because she had seen no pictures, her house was empty.

“My children”, she whispered with a smile on her face, “After birth, I could decide if I wanted to go back to the warriors or rest. Most of the times I went back after a few days, I never knew what to do with an infant. They would bring my child to me to drink, while I was bred. I loved to be in the pillory. Kneeling, being taken from behind, my hands bound. Someone would hold my child to my breast and the warrior would thrust more gently.”

She felt it tingle in her nether regions and squirmed.

“How do you become a Mother?”, she asked breathlessly. Sváfa smiled kindly and patted her head.

“You fight and if you’re one of the best you will be chosen.”

After that she trained even more determinedly. She tried finding a warrior, any warrior, to experience what Sváfa had spoken of, but they never felt right. And on her 19th birthday her dream came true.