The Skabelse

As the Daughters rounded the bend of the beaten path, the Rorik men couldn't believe their eyes. Many hollered and cheered as the came into view as excitement coursed through their veins. Even Bjorn was taken aback who had left the confines of his tent to catch a glimpse of the women. Dozens of elegant creatures on horseback, who looked to be angels, slowly made their way into the large clearing in the middle of the forest. They ranged from all ages but all were magnificent with their fair hair that was styled beautifully and soft features.

The men couldn't help but and to notice the abundant curves that were hidden under their intricate armor or how delicate their frames were compared to their large sizes.  Even the men that had already become familiar with a women stood gawking at the Daughters of the Glade for they had never seen women as stunning and glorious as the ones before them. Bjorn couldn't help himself as he stared at the girl on the painted mare. Even with the scar on her cheek she was breathtaking. Her eyes were the most piercing shades of blue he had ever seen and her hair was so light it was almost silver. Her armor was well fitted and suited her body. He could tell she was a skilled fighter how she carried herself and how her defined muscles were tensed. He wondered if she specifically chose to wear it to intimidate his Brothers and cracked a small smile when he realized this was probably true. With each second that he studied her he realized that if he would be forced to bed one of these women he wished it to be her. Of course he didn't want to form any bond or relationship with the women-he only wanted her for the sake of his future offspring. When his traits  mixed with hers they would have a fine son indeed and he would make his father proud.

While the men stood gazing at the Daughters, the girls did the same. Their hearts were beating quickly as the large crowed of men awaited them as they applauded the women. They were all tall and muscular and had strange markings on their skin. They had hair that ranged from the color of fire to the feather on a raven and many of them sported thick portions of hair on their chins as well-something that was very odd to the women.

"These are what men look like?" Darsa asked in hushed tone to Rowan as they drew closer.

Rowan was shocked at how similar they looked to women yet profoundly distinct at the same time. "I suppose so. They are so large. That one keeps staring at me," Rowan whispered back as she motioned towards a man with tousled black hair that fell to his ears. He was the farthest away but even from the distance she had noticed his green eyes never leaving hers. He was one of the younger men and had tan skin and a long nose that suited his face. Rowan tore her eyes away as his gaze became too intense for her and she focused on Tursa ahead as brought her stallion to a halt.

"Good evening, I am Tursa and we are the Daughters of the Glades chosen tributes. I take it that you are the men of Rorik for the Skabelse?," she asked. An older man with dark red hair and strange markings on his neck stepped forward and smiled. Even with his aging face he was still quite handsome to Tursa.

"Yes that would be correct. I am Falkstan, the head of the Kings guards of Rorik. It is very nice to meet you all", he said still smiling as he looked at the rest of the caravan. He thought Tursa was very attractive and would make a good looking and strong child if he could claim her. Tursa gave a stout nod and looked back at the caravan of women behind her as she climbed off her horse signaling for them to do the same. The Daughters did so and the men waited as they unloaded their belongings and placed them against one of the trunks of a redwood.

As they did this, Rowan couldn't help but look around for the boy who had observed her so intently before but she did not see him. He must have gone to his quarters she thought as she sat her bed roll down with the rest of her stuff.

After everything was unloaded, the tributes from Rorik and the Glade sat across from one another around a large bonfire that the men had prepared for the evening. The sky grew darker and the crickets had already started singing and the heat the fire provided felt nice in the chilly air against Rowan's skin.

As she surveyed the camp, she noticed her cousin Darsa's face had grown red with anger. "I know you are not flushed with embarrassment cousin. What angers you?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

Darsa narrowed her eyes, "They do", she spat nodding her head across the fire, "Ever since we have arrived they have looked at us in ways that displeases me."

Rowan knew all too well what she meant. They had yet to be here for half an hour and already she was sick to her stomach-partly being their voracious glances and the other part being their pungent smell. That was one rumor that had rang to be true. "Aye, I agree. If they do not keep their eyes to themselves soon I will be plucking them out with my bare hands, Rowan seethed. She disliked the Rorik men even more so than before since she arrived in the Venetian Forest.

Anadora chuckled and scooted close to Rowan, leaning in to her ear, "It looks like you will be doing that rather soon," she said teasingly. Rowan looked to her right at Anadora and followed her gaze back to the raven haired boy from earlier. He stood there grimacing but every few moments his green eyes would fall onto Rowan. When he saw her looking it was he that averted his eyes as if he had never seen her in the first place. Rowan scoffed and focused on Tursa and the man known as Falkstan as they walked to the small platform.

During the time it took for the tributes to gather around the fire, the two quickly paired each tribute together as best as they could according to their ages. Before they had begun though, Falkstan informed Tursa that the he was specifically ordered by his king that his son be paired with Queen Lana's daughter. Seeing no harm in this Tursa agreed and made the arrangements. "Would you like to be my woman?" he asked as they were making the finishing touches to the list. Tursa smiled and nodded, "Aye."

Taking turns reading the long manuscript that was provided to them by the High kings and queens, they went over the history of the Great War and reminded them why we have the Skabelse to this day. Hearing the story while sitting across from the menfolk Rowan couldn't help but picture them as they fought and murdered her Sisters. She knew it was silly, but now that she was aware of the appearance of males she couldn't stop the images from entering her mind. As it was Tursa's turn to speak up, Rowan focused on her words and less on the increasing flow of her blood from resentment.

"As you all know or have heard, the tributes are paired with one another. I along with Falkstan did our best to accommodate you in age. As you are called, please be seated at the tables so dinner can be served," Tursa announced then proceeded to unfold the list. She handed it over to Falkstan as his voice would be heard well over the fire than hers. As she looked at him from the corner of her eye she was pleased this would be her child's father.

"Let us begin," Falkstan stated. Rowans heartbeat quickened as the names were read. Pruella was called first and was paired with a blonde headed boy who looked a few years older than herself. Darsa was paired off with an attractive man named Horan who beamed at her when he joined her at the tables. He was quite young and thought she was striking and was very pleased with this his tribute.

As the crowed grew less in numbers, anticipation filled Rowan and she thought she would soon faint. There were less then a dozen left and she shut her eyes tightly in hopes to calm herself. Suddenly her name was called followed by Bjorn's and she opened her eyes, searching for the male who was name was called after hers.  When the boy with the dark hair and emerald eyes made his way to the tables she swallowed hard.

All of the tables had been taken except for one and she took her seat. The raven haired boy joined her but said nothing. "You are the one known as Bjorn?" she asked nervously trying her best to be civil. He nodded his head once and remained silent. She narrowed her eyes at him for his coldness he showed her and crossed her arms over her chest as the remaining tributes joined their table. "This will be a long night," she mumbled to herself, "A long night indeed."