Ivar x Sigrid by faringwayb
Explore the intimate and passionate encounter between Ivar and Sigrid in this gripping erotic story by faringwayb. Delve into a world of desire, tension, and connection that will leave you breathless. Read now for an unforgettable journey of love and lust!<br/>
Just a story based off my dungeons and dragons character and her long lost brother , Sigrid stirred, her muscles aching from head to toe. What had she been laying on, stone? Her nose confirmed such before her eyes even opened. Wherever she was, it was earthy with a heavy musk that came only from furry bodies and wild animals.
Opening her eyes, she took in the mossy ceiling of the cave. Beneath her was a pile of furs that looked as if monsters had ripped them from their owners. She noticed that she was naked, save for her mother’s wolf head necklace, with a fur blanket covering only her lower half. Not that she needed a blanket in the warmth of the cave.
Her body creaked as she sat up. Why was she here? Glancing around, she saw wolves- ordinary mountain wolves as well as large hybrid-form werewolves. All were either sleeping or laying out in grass just beyond.
Slowly it came to her; Sigrid had gone to the ruin of her family house to meet with a werewolf who said he might know her brother. She had joined the large male the previous night during the full moon and had let her inner beast run wild with the pack. At the time, she had been preoccupied with the red haze of the hunt. Now that she was awake…
Sigrid looked around her and sniffed. Rising to her feet, she became aware that she was the only one in human form among the lot. There were a few who watched her with intense red eyes. Her keen nose picked up on their feelings of suspicion, as well as some with amorous intent.
She sent a warning growl promising a fight if any of them tried.
The ones who wanted to mate wrinkled their noses in wolfish laughter. A fight with a spirited female would make the mating more fun. Still, they lowered their heads to rest on their paws and made no effort to harass her further. However, one did roll to his side to show off his, admittedly impressive, manhood.
Ignoring them, Sigrid picked through the sleeping wolves hoping to catch some sign of her brother. Did she remember what his wolf form looked like? Would he even smell like himself? She hadn’t seen him since she was a child- fourteen years had passed since their village had been sacked and burned. Fourteen years while she believed him to be dead.
‘Please…’ she begged whatever gods listened to her. ‘Please let me find him.’
A sleepy huff drew her attention to a hybrid wolf with fur that ran dark brown along his spine, to gold, to cream on his paws and undersides. He slept on his side and breathed deep, making his leathery black nostrils flare. Approaching the werewolf, she saw stripes of bare flesh where he had been scarred, with a few marking his face.
Sigrid’s heart thundered in her ears as she reached out to stroke the bristly fur along his cheek. “Ivar…?”
A pit of grief dropped in her stomach when his eyes opened, bleary with sleep. They were the deep red of blood- not the stormy grey-blue she remembered her brother having. There was a brief look of annoyance when he glanced up at her before he blinked, and recognition brought him to full wakefulness.
He didn’t speak, but his ears moved back and forth as his nose frantically sniffed the air. Propping himself on his forepaws, he nosed her before his ears fell flat, and a high whine keened from his throat. Behind him, his thick bushy tail thumped happily against the packed earth of the cave floor.
Sigrid couldn’t help but lean into him when his head bumped against hers, and she allowed him to lap at the tears that flowed down her cheeks. Part of her cried for relief to have found her beloved brother, but another ached to see how far he had fallen. She wrapped her arms around his thick, furry neck and held him close as he continued to investigate her.
“Sigrid.” Ivar’s voice was deep and chesty and sounded like he hadn’t used it in years. “Sigrid, is it really you? Mother’s necklace- Please….”
She leaned back and cupped his muzzle in her hands. Her thumbs stroked along the tawny-colored fur along his cheeks and replied, “It’s me… Ivar- Ivar, your eyes. Why–” Her voice caught in her throat.
His ears pressed guiltily to his skull. “I- When the village had been attacked, I lost myself. I fought with everyone to be sure people could escape, then I tried to find our sister and mothers- and you, of course. Ma, I found her dying with her stomach ripped open. I guarded her until she drew her last breath. When I tried to find you and mother… you were nowhere to be found. Myra and I fought. I had hoped- but she didn’t have you and we fought, that was the last time we spoke. I was very angry. I couldn’t–”
They were silent for some time. Around them, the other members of the pack stirred and stretched, but brother and sister remained. The thick air of the cave made it hard to breathe.
Rising to her feet, Sigrid paced as she tried to understand. Her heart ached- She felt like a fool for hoping her family would return to normal when she found her siblings. It should have occurred to her that normal died when their village burned. Her mothers were gone, her sister was off somewhere else, and her brother turned to the beast. She was left just as lost as she had been when she was a little girl.
“Sigrid,” her brother’s voice was soft.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just- I don’t understand.”
There was a pause then she heard him stand, his voice now rumbling over her head. “Would it make you happy to see me as I once was? I will do that for you.”
She didn’t turn to face him but nodded.
Then she heard him take a deep breath, followed by the pained sounds of him shifting out of his hybrid form. Still, she didn’t turn; It would have only hurt more to see him in pain as his body contorted into a shape it hadn’t been in for almost two decades.
It wasn’t until a rough hand touched her shoulder that she looked. Her heart gave an odd flutter- one similar to what she felt upon first seeing the woman who waited for her back home. Only this one fluttered from her chest to her belly in a way that made her dizzy.
Her brother was just as tall as she remembered- everyone in their family had been tall aside from her. She had to look up, or else she’d be staring at his chest. He was thin, trim with strong muscles under his pale and scarred flesh. All of him was covered in golden-brown hair- thick waves on his head and scraggly beard, to his chest, forearms, and-
She blushed and made herself look up from his groin into his tired face. Ivar smiled down at her through his beard; soft wrinkles that crinkled around his eyes made him look twenty years older than her rather than ten. His red eyes watched her with love and admiration, suddenly reminding her that she also stood naked before him.
They were looking at each other in a way that made her stomach turn into a ball of nervous energy. Sigrid stepped closer and placed her hands on his chest and the side of his face. He was warm beneath her palms and the hair soft.
“Do I look like you remember?” Ivar asked as he leaned into her palm.