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Author's Chapter Notes:
Many many thanks for my kind reviews. They really make the work worth while.
Hope you enjoy the spuffyness to come
William looked out at the weather, it was raining and that was putting it politely. The rain hadn’t stopped for days.
The men made themselves useful, helping with the spinning, wool sorting, child care and some cooking and generally trying to stay out of the way. There were animals to see to as well, fodder to collect and milking to be done. Willow was teaching Tara what she could of healing and herb work. Buffy was tending her loom, and overseeing the running of the house.

One of the most amazing things he’d seen had been the week before when Buffy and Andrew had headed off with a cart load of grain. They went to a machine that actually ground the grain for them. William had gone along for the journey out of boredom and as an excuse to be with Buffy.

William had watched in fascination as they had poured sackfuls of grain into a box and opened up a water gate that drove the machinery. Out of the bottom came fully ground flour. As fine as any he had seen before. After ensuring that Andrew could continue on his own Buffy walked home along the frost covered paths. She looked wonderful with the sun shining through her hair: amazing how quickly William had gotten used to women with no head coverings, he didn’t even think about it now. They had talked for the hour it had taken to walk from the community mill to home, about everything and anything, including his mother. Buffy was the first person he’d ever really talked about his mother with.

She’d held his hand over the muddy bits, laughing when he nearly fell into a puddle. It had been a wonderful day. Night was approaching by the time Andrew made it back, and they all helped unload a month’s supply of flour into the storage shed. The one where Buffy gave the cats their milk. They kept the mice away, she’d explained at the time.

‘Are you bored?’ She asked him as he watched the water drop from the eaves.

‘Very: I don’t think I’ve ever had so much free time.’ William answered. He was becoming surer of himself.

‘What did you do with your time before?’

‘I read to my mother, then I worked at the Monastery.’

Buffy made another pass of the warp thread. ‘You miss her?’

‘Very much, she was my friend as well as my mother.’

Buffy tried to change the topic: William was becoming melancholy again.

‘Well: do you fight?’

‘What?’

‘Sword, knife, anything?’

‘Well I was trained as a child; why?’

‘The children need tuition. I was wondering if you’d help the warriors: we normally clear the far end of the hall and let them practise. We will need all the adult help we can get, we all need to keep our skills honed.’

Tara couldn’t believe her eyes when she came back into the Hall with Willow; they’d been to a neighbouring farm to help with the delivery of twins. She’d been the first person to hold the new life and it had thrilled her. She’d held Willow’s hand and it had felt so right. Her heart was more and more confused when Willow had kissed her gently on the cheek in thanks for the effort Tara had put in to helping that day.

Tara came in to find her quiet cousin facing down Buffy, sword in hand, with Connor helping him. There were none of the normal rude remarks that she had been used to hearing when William sparred with his brothers; Connor and Buffy seemed to be encouraging him.

‘You’re leaner and faster than many, so make speed your friend.’ Connor was saying, but Tara’s biggest surprise was Buffy, she was highly skilled at spear-play.

Willow watched for a few seconds then turned to her friend. ‘You don’t have to know how to fight to die, and who do you think trains the young warriors,’ she indicated the children, ‘when our men folk are away? Never underestimate the power held in the woman’s hands: she is the foundation our world is built on.’

Tara nodded and turned to help Willow put away her stuff. They had found places in their new home. Tara allowed her hand to brush Willow’s and smiled at the woman. Willow answered the smile completely. It was a smile that promised more come nightfall.

William watched as the men got out their crafts that night. With dusk falling so early they all stayed close to the hall and used their hands in the evenings. He had tried to spin as all the Northmen did it, but the spindle was removed from his hands before too long as he was making a real mess of it. Buffy had sorted the wool carefully with Anya’s help and they intended to weave up a new set of sails over the winter, if they got the cloth for Olaf’s new tunic off the loom in time.

Two different threads, one from the inner fleece of the sheep, one from the outer, woven together to produce a cloth that bellied in the wind, allowing the Dragonship to really race before even a mild breeze. It was one of the secrets of the ships, the special way the sails were made.

‘I can do one thing.’ William said that night, after he’d gotten in the way of yet another spindle. ‘I can carve, my Grandfather taught me, but I have no knife.’

‘Nor should you have one, you’re not free here, but you can borrow one if you want: I have a small spare in the weapons chest.’ Connor offered. It hurt William for a moment to remember that officially he and Tara were still hostages, but it was true, they shouldn’t be armed. Connor turned. ‘Buffy, please may I get a small knife from the weapons chest?’

Buffy looked up from her tablet weaving. ‘What do you need it for Connor? You have your scram on you.’

‘For William, he can carve and I want to lend him the small knife my father gave me in my eighth summer.’

Buffy nodded and finished twisting the tablets for a final time and took the key from its place on her brooch. Handing it to Connor, she reminded him to give it straight back.

Connor handed over a small knife to William. ‘This is a loan,’ he said carefully before relocking the chest and handing the key back to Buffy.

William took a small piece of bone and started to carve, it had been a long time and he needed the practise. Buffy collected the knife from him as they went to bed, her hand caressing his for a moment. William’s cheeks burnt hotter than the fire at that.



After they took to their bed, Willow leant across and kissed Tara full on the lips. Tara found herself responding in a way she didn’t expect. There had been hand holding, and looks, but it went further now. Willow’s hand snaked around Tara’s waist and
pulled her in close. They deepened the kiss, harder, stronger, as lovers. Tara’s hand made its way up Willow’s thigh and caressed her buttocks; Willow pulled her in closer and then dived under the covers and started kissing down her neck to her breasts. Taking a nipple into her mouth she sucked hard until she could feel Tara react. Tara’s body knew it needed something more and it started rubbing up and down along Willow’s arm. Willow’s fingers went down further and started rubbing on Tara’s most intimate place.
She stroked and rubbed until Tara felt the world explode around her: she screamed into Willow’s mouth. Willow held her close until she came down from her first orgasm.

Connor listened in to his two favourite women pleasuring each other. He lazily stroked his cock, wishing it was buried in one of the two women enjoying each other just the other side of the partition separating his bed from the hall. As Tara came Connor spurted his seed all over his hand and blankets; satisfied, he fell asleep dreaming of the two women.

Tara felt confused, though. She still felt something for Connor, but what Willow did to her body was amazing. Whatever happened though, she knew she never wanted to go home to her father ever again.
After that they grew closer and closer during the day as well, sharing the blankets at night. Connor smiled whenever they looked at him. He needed to talk to Buffy; perhaps there could be a new lady, or two, in his hall before next winter.



Day followed day, week melted into week and soon it would be Solstice, a week of partying for the shortest day. It seemed that the sun had gone from the sky completely, the days were so short.

Tara and Willow got closer and closer, the girl helped where she could and the Nana taught her much about herbs and healing.

The hall was decorated up for midwinter, greenery everywhere, with food fit for a Kings Hall. On the shortest day they partied and feasted until long into the night. Willow and Tara shared a horn of mead, raising smiles amongst the rest of the hall. Sharing a horn meant something to these folk, that much William could understand. He understood more and more of the language spoken in the hall. He didn’t always understand the subtleties of it though.

Buffy seemed very happy this evening. William however was nervous, he had a gift for Buffy and hoped she would accept it.

When the feasting had quietened down and everyone was getting ready for the stories, William made his way over to where Buffy was holding little Alex, Anya’s son, allowing Anya and Xander join in the circle dance that had been started. She looked wonderful with the small baby in her arms, cuddling him quietly to her breast. There was a wistful look on her face, and she seemed to shine with love. William realised that was why she did all she did, through love, love of her people and her hall.

‘Buffy?’

‘William: come, sit down, are you enjoying yourself? You haven’t danced yet.’

‘Maybe later: I h-have a small gift for you.’ He handed over a small, highly carved bone ring. Buffy looked in awe at the fine work, it was lovely; she slipped it onto her finger and it fitted perfectly.

‘Thank you William,’ she said, and leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips, as soft as butterfly wings, and it felt as though an angel had touched him. Before they could get any more intense, Connor started to talk.

‘Gifts for all,’ he said, and signalled to Buffy to open up the chest that had been carried to the centre of the hall.

The chest contained the most amazing silverwork and gems. Connor started calling forward his shipmates one by one. Each man got rings of silver, arm rings and torcs: there was wealth beyond anything William had seen before.

Then, to a man, they swore an oath to serve Connor and his heirs truly.

Buffy smiled up from her seat. ‘And for the ladies,’ she said with a smile.

Tablet braid and jewellery. Silver necklaces, rings and ornaments. For all. There was a length of cloth for Olaf, and for Andrew and Jon there were new clothes each.

She shyly held out a silk headscarf to Tara, and a wimple to match. Such things were worth more than its weight in silver. And for William there was a fine new undertunic of pure bleached linen.

Then the stories started, before anyone could get too emotional.

‘Once, when Odin and Thor took to the world, they decided to see how people were treating one another in the new world that had been made,’ started Willow. ‘They disguised themselves as travellers and went to a house. Knocking at the door they asked for shelter. The woman of the house let them in, but she was not hospitable. She gave them the place furthest from the fire, and no extra blankets at night. Their food was taken from the pot after she had fed her household, in fact she wouldn’t even talk to them more than necessary. After three days they left her house, grateful to be away.

‘They went to a second house and asked for shelter. They were welcomed in and given good meat from the pot, the fire was made high in their honour and they were given good places on the benches, but the wife made it clear she didn’t want them to stay long.

‘They left after three days and went to the third house. There they were welcomed as though they were long lost family. The best place by the fire was theirs, the best blankets given to them for their comfort and they saw the woman killing chickens to make sure she had food enough for her guests. They were given the finest. That night Odin saw all: he saw the woman sitting up through the night to mend a tear in one of the cloaks, tiny stitches and re-weaving of the threads. When she finished she laid the cloak back in its place as though it hadn’t been moved, making no mention of her work. When three days were up, she begged her guests to stay, but when they wouldn’t she sent them on their way with food for their journey. When Thor and Odin returned over the Rainbow Bridge and went into Asgard they talked about what they had found. Odin pronounced from above:

‘The first woman shall be the mother of slaves, for no welcome did we find in her home.
The second shall be the mother of craftsmen: she gave shelter but her heart wasn’t truly in the giving.
‘But the third, the third: she shall be the mother of all kings, for her home made us truly welcome, and so it came to be. All those who rule can trace their lineage to that true woman.’

Everyone clapped and cheered when Willow had finished; Helga picked up a lyre and started playing it. Xander and Olaf started a song which all soon joined in.

William was happier than he thought possible when they all finally went to bed.





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