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Scourge of the Heathen- Chapter 18
🕑 Added 2025-09-17 22:45:12 +0000 UTCAN: Just wanted to let everyone know, my dad had his heart procedure as of last week, and everything went well. No complications. I'm hoping everything starts to even out a bit now.
Anyway... hope you enjoy!
Casting-
Rowena- Anna Belik
Freyja- Sophie Saint Marjan
For a few breathless moments, the room was truly silent. Their utter bewilderment could be excused though, at least in Harry’s opinion. It’s not every day that a genuine goddess just pops in to say hello. For most people it would likely be a cause for concern, but he only felt relief. It’s quite comforting to find out that the voice in my head wasn’t a manifestation of my own isolation and grief.
For the second time that night, Rowena found herself at a complete loss for words. I’d wager that’s a record. She sat there, eyes fixed on their unexpected guest, mouth threatening to form some thought but shutting every time the attempt was made.
Freyja laughed, a husky thing that sent her impressive chest jiggling. It reminded him, with all the subtlety of a bludger to the head, that she wasn’t just the goddess of magic but of beauty and sex as well. The sound was enough to rouse them both from their daze.
“Goddess…” Rowena started only to be interrupted.
“I think Freyja will suffice. Your shock is understandable, but I won’t tolerate constant simpering, especially from someone it simply doesn’t suit.” The chastisement came without any true irritation.
“Freyja,” She started again, taking the rebuke in stride, “why are you here? Why now?”
“To fill in the blanks. There aren’t very many, granted, but they’re sizable to say the least.”
“So, it was you that altered the Veil?” Harry interjected.
“Yes,” She turned her attention to him, genuine mirth in her eyes.
“How is that even possible?”
“With a great deal of power, knowledge and time.” It wasn’t in the nature of a goddess to be humble.
If she decided on this plan now, in this time, than she’d had plenty of time to alter the Door, “Time? Say a millennium?”
“Give or take.” She offered an enigmatic smile, “I wonder if you ever suspected it was me?”
Despite the many twists and turns that his life had taken over the years, a pagan god altering Death’s Door to send him back in time was farfetched even to his imagination. Though considering the voice only came after I started speaking to the old gods, I should’ve made me suspicious, at least. “I’m afraid not.”
She pouted, “Pity, but I can’t particularly blame you. Your focus was taken up with more pressing matters rather quickly upon your arrival here.”
“But why?” Rowena asked the simple, important question.
Any levity in her demeanor disappeared then, her eyes flashing with something dangerous, “Because a different path is necessary.”
“Meaning no offense, but how could you possibly know?” It was rare that anyone ever started a sentence that way and actually managed not to cause offense, but Rowena did it.
“My magic allows me some sight, this you know,” He felt Rowena nod beside him, “Though even mine is limited. No, this foreknowledge comes from others, the Norn. Skuld to be specific.” The Norn were comprised of three: Urðr, tender of the past, Verðandi, caretaker of the present, and Skuld, weaver of things to come. It was said that they worked at the base of Yggdrasil.
“And what did Skuld tell you?” He questioned.
“Of the death of every tradition our people hold dear. Of the persecution and murder of those with the Gift. And in the end, the very death of magic.” Every word reverberated against the stone walls, powerful and filled with sorrow, “But there’s always hope. The weavings of Skuld are never fixed. And I refused to allow such a thing to come to pass.”
He lived some of that horrid future for himself, would happily see it change, and had hopefully already set events in motion that would be the catalyst for that change. Apparently, at least to some extent, that’s been by design. After being manipulated for most of his youth, he’d normally chafe at being used as a pawn, had even been angered when Death hinted at it, but now that he knew the truth, he found himself perfectly willing to stand up as a champion for the cause.
“But… why Harry?” It was a fair question as far as he was concerned. There were others, like Rowena, who held to the old ways. People that would’ve committed themselves to her service if given the chance.
“It’s not as though he alone has been my instrument.” She gave a meaningful look to the witch beside him, “Though, I understand your meaning. Not just anyone would do. I needed a warrior, peerless in strength, touched by Death, and tempered by sorrow. Who has seen all that came to pass because of the complacency of the weak and corrupt.” It sounded more like prophecy than reason, but the two were difficult to distinguish when talking with a goddess “Anything less, and the rot will continue to fester.” The weight of her declaration left them silent for a brief moment.
But Rowena’s desire to understand couldn’t’ be overcome so easily, “I take it you were also responsible for my… unexpected speech after the sacrifice in Varrich?” It was hard to tell whether she was pleased to discover the truth or disconcerted. While she revered her gods, she was a woman who valued her own mind.
“In a manner of speaking, though you had more to do with it than you’re probably imagining at the moment.”
He could see the wheels spinning in her head, trying to make heads or tails of that answer, but she didn’t question it further. He had another of his own though, “You’re a goddess, chief among the Vanir, why do you need either of us?”
He expected she might scoff at the very notion. After all, it was fair to think that a goddess didn’t ever need mortals. But there was no indignation as she explained, “My direct intervention in the matters of mortals, say raising armies in my name and leading them in bloodshed and battle, would be met with rage and rebuke from some of my fellows.” She sounded less than eager to deal with such a thing, “That alone isn’t enough to deter me, but sufficed to say, I’ve seen the way forward and it’s best that I work in the world through those that I deem worthy.”
She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Though I’ve… nudged things, once or twice, when necessary. There are worse things than having a goddess on your side.”
He knew of at least a few instances she was referring to: walking through the Veil, returning to his old home, even waking the night that Mairi nearly sent Rowena to the monastery. In each instance, it’d been Freyja’s voice in his ear, guiding him. And he was willing to wager it was her that set the ravens on Halland when he was throwing bones.
“So… now that we know of your hand in all of this, what next?” Rowena asked.
“I don’t intend to guide your every movement and decision, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Freyja assured them, “I didn’t come to speak with you to bend you to my will… that would defeat the purpose of why I chose you in the first place. No, I came here so you could better understand the events that led you to your recent triumph. So, what comes next… is you go about living your lives as you see fit, just as you have up to this point.” Though that didn’t mean she wouldn’t give more nudges where she thought it necessary.
There was steel sharpness in Rowena’s voice as she asked, “And if that means we stay here, in the Highlands, doing nothing more than teaching the younger generation the wonders of magic?”
“Then that’s your decision.” The corner of her lip quirked slightly, barely hiding her amusement, “But could either of you really remain idle, knowing what you do? Knowing that there are other monasteries out there doing the same thing they were doing to the children you hold so dearly? And that is to say nothing of the friends and allies you’ve made, who, will doubtlessly, come seeking your wisdom, advice, and even aid in future?”
As they shared a look, one that confirmed without words that she was unequivocally correct, a smug smile came to her lips, “I thought not.”
She stood then, the chair she conjured disappearing just as effortlessly as it appeared, “Now that we understand each other, it’s time that I left you to the rest of your evening. It was a pleasure speaking face to face, finally.” Her visit, however brief, had been illuminating.
“You could almost call it long overdue.” He wasn’t sure if he was truly irritated with the obfuscation. Her machinations led him to Rowena and a life worth living for the first time since parting Luna. She’s been far better for my life than anything Dumbledore ever did.
She chuckled, “You’re right, Harry. But would you, of all people, have welcomed me without first experiencing, firsthand, that I aim only to aid you. Had I met you outside of Death’s Door and implored you to take up as a champion for this cause, would you have willingly agreed?”
Given everything he experienced with the Inquisition in his own time, it was possible, but there was also the possibility, that disillusioned as he’d become after years of defeat and death, that he would’ve refused. The truth was, he couldn’t say for sure, “I… don’t know.”
“Which is exactly why this meeting needed to be delayed.” He doubted any mortal could match her complete certainty, “Some things can’t be left to chance.”
“Should we expect another visit?” For the first time Rowena’s almost clinical curiosity, seemed to have given way to unabashed enthusiasm, “There’s much I’d like to ask you?”
“I’d expect nothing less.” Freyja seemed genuinely pleased, “We’ll speak again, of that much you can be certain.” She inclined her head, telling them a final, “Good evening.” Without so much as a pop, she disappeared on the spot. She left behind only one thing, a feather from her cloak that floated through the air to land on the bed between them just between their thighs.
It sat there as a silent reminder that they had just, in fact, been visited by a goddess. A fact that was underpinned by Rowena’s awestruck comment, “That… really just happened.”
“It did.” Harry agreed with a little shake of his head, still just as bewildered by the interaction. He had to admire just how well his lover was taking everything. At least for him, it was only experiencing one monumental reveal for the night. Considering everything she’d learned both before and after the goddess’s arrival, a full-blown emotional spiral would’ve been perfectly understandable.
Resting her head on his shoulder, Rowena pressed herself against him. She grabbed the feather, raising it for them both to look at. There was something inscrutable in her eye, and he could only wait for her to voice the thoughts that were surely racing through her mind, “As I said, there’s much a wish to ask her when possible. But before that, there’s something I must remember to do.”
He rested his cheek on the top of her head, “What’s that?”
“Thank her.”
“What for?”
He could hear the smile in her voice, “For you, of course.”
“Is that so?” His hand drifted to her hip, squeezing her.
“I never would’ve met you if not for her intervention,” Her eyes glazed as though she were looking at some far-off thing, “I can’t imagine the turns my life would’ve taken without you in it.” She snorted and gave him a look, “I suppose I have some idea, founder of Hogwarts and all that… but I think it would be duller.”
“I do have a habit of making things interesting, if nothing else.” His years at Hogwarts were a testament to that fact.
She giggled at that, “You do…You’d never hear an argument from me to the contrary.”
His fingers found hers around the spine of the feather, “I need to thank her as well.” He thought of the utter despair and hopelessness he’d left behind. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet, it’d only been months.
Hope, as it turned out, was a balm to the soul, “I don’t know what would’ve become of me in my own time.” Truthfully, he did. There was a reason why he decided to walk through the Veil, but it was difficult to give voice to it, “But I know that I’m glad to be here with you.”
Rowena turned her head ever so slightly, her breath ghosting against the hollow of his neck before she placed a kiss against his pulse point. She smirked against him, her hand releasing the feather to drift to his thighs, “It’s an odd thing. After the revelations tonight, I ought to feel exhausted and yet… I feel invigorated.” Regardless of their encounter with Freyja, their earlier conversations should’ve been emotionally draining at the very least, but he couldn’t help but agree with her. He felt revitalized. Perhaps that comes with being in the presence of a goddess.
Her fingers drifted higher along his thigh, brushing against him through the material of his trousers. The warmth of her breath against his neck sent a thrill down his spine, “Would you like me to show you just how pleased I am that you’re here?”
Of all the outcomes of their conversation that night, this seemed among the most unlikely. The likeliest being Rowena would bombard me with every question she could conjure in that brilliant mind of hers. But only a daft bastard would refuse the beauty whose fingers currently teased at the waist of his trousers. Placing the feather on the small table beside her bed, Harry’s direct way of answering her question was to tilt her chin up and pull her into a kiss.
She pulled away only briefly, a pleased smile on her lips, “I’ll take that as a yes.” As they came together again, her hand slipped below the waist of his trouser. She gripped his hardening length, and he couldn’t help but groan into the kiss.
As she stroked him to full hardness, they parted when Harry performed a bit of wandless magic that left her stunning body on full display. She smirked as she gave him a particularly firm tug, “Someone is impatient.”
“Can you blame me.” He replied with a pointed look at her gorgeousness. Before she had the opportunity to reply, she gasped as his fingers found her pebbled nipple, pinching the sensitive nub.
Deciding that, he too, was overdressed, Rowena went for the more conventional approach to disrobing him. He lifted his hips to help her as she pushed his trousers down his legs. There was a dull thud as his cock sprang free to smack against his stomach. Without hesitation she took him in both hands and stroked his impressive length.
His hand drifted from her beautiful mound, down her taught stomach, to the wetness between her thighs. Slick… Her tiny tunnel hugged his invading digit as he flexed his finger and scraped against that spot deep inside of her that he knew drove her absolutely mad. The moan that left her throat made his cock twitch out a thick pearl of precum.
She gathered it with her thumb and worked it into his thickness. Her soft hands gliding along his length at a perfect pace to drive him mad.
As she coaxed another pearl from his tip, she leaned down to scoop it up with her tongue. She savored the taste, latching onto his tip and gently suckling every time another throb gifted her the treat.
Enamored with the task at hand, a garbled yelp was her only response as he took hold of her and changed their position. Laying on his back, Rowena lay entirely atop of him, her thighs hugging either side of his head. It left him with a perfect view of her pink, dripping slit that was just begging for his attention.
Her moan reverberated down the length of his cock as he hooked his arms around her thighs, gripping the firm globes of her bum in each hand, and pulled her down to his mouth. Her ass cheeks flexed between his fingers as he tasted her. He pushed his tongue between her folds, scraping against her sensitive walls before pulling back to flick against her oversensitive nub.
Rowena’s own ministration became distracted, her pace stilted as she twitched with pleasure at each new touch, but that made it no less enjoyable. In fact, there was something cock twitchingly sexy about driving her to such obvious distraction with his tongue alone. She held him in her mouth, doing nothing more than breathing heavily around his girth for a minute, drool pooling at the edges of her mouth to drip down to his bollocks.
When she finally remembered herself, she tried to push herself deeper on his length, and for a time she managed.… Gluhk… only to gag as his tip pressed against the back of her throat. She pulled back, sitting up on his face, one hand resting on his chest while the other continued to stroke his turgid length, “Oh… that feels… sooo good!” her voice was breathy and desperate with desire.
As her nails scratched against his chest, he pictured a snake in his mind. Placing his tongue directly against her clit again, he started speaking. His didn’t just vibrate, but flicked and swiped in a way no normal human could ever hope to replicate.
Her reaction was instantaneous, “Oh… oh… Freyja… I’m….” The scream he pulled from her chest was loud enough that it pierced the night, echoing down into the valley and forest. Her mouth remained open in silent euphoria. Her entire body went tight like the string of bow before she started quaking with pleasure. Her thighs tightened around his ears as her pussy twitched, squirting little rivulets of her juices into his waiting mouth. He didn’t let it stop him from pushing her from one peak into the next.
Finally, it proved too much for his lover. With a shocking amount of strength, she managed to pull her hypersensitive pussy from his insatiable mouth, dropping her body flat against him in the process. He was able to watch as her slit continued to twitch as her body went through the aftershocks.
He brushed his fingers against the back of her thighs, caressing her as she came down from her high. He was surprised when, still quaking from her climax, he felt her lips press against the side of his cock. It was almost as though she were saying a silent thanks for the brilliance of parseltongue.
She wasn’t content showing her appreciation with that alone. Digging her nails into his thighs, she pulled herself down his body until her pussy dragged against his cock. Pushing herself up, she took hold of him and brought his fat cockhead to her eager, pristine slit. In one smooth motion, she dropped herself down his length until her pert cheeks rested against his groin. Her still quivering cunt hugged every inch of his thickness, and she had to take a moment as it triggered another small climax.
Grabbing her waist in his hands, his thumbs dug into her dimples of Venus. As he made one small thrust upward, Rowena turned back to look at him, a dangerous glint in her dark blue eyes. Words tinged with unmistakable lust, she instructed him, “You may touch, my love… but I’ll do the work. You understand?”
He squeezed her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, but he nodded his head. With a sexy smirk, she lifted herself up his length until he could see the impression of his crown at the entrance of her grippy lips before quickly driving back down. Smack… Smack… Rowena threw herself down against him with reckless abandon, bouncing herself on his length like a woman possessed.
It was hard to keep track of time as his world became entirely fixated on the perfection of her pussy wrapped around his cock. Every time his ridge scraped against her at just the right angle, another debauched moan escaped her lips. She sped up and then slowed, only to speed up again, swiveling her hips on occasion to give that extra bit of stimulation.
When she worked herself nearly to exhaustion she sat down fully, his length buried balls deep in her, and she started grinding. She squeezed her inner muscles, trying to push him over that edge. It had the unsurprising consequence of tipping her over the edge instead.
As her walls fluttered around him, she pushed up onto her feet, squatting over his hips. With renewed vigor, she started bouncing faster than ever. Little droplets of her juices sprayed out around the seal of her taut lips, dripping down onto his crotch. As her strength finally waned, he started helping her.
There were no complaints this time, only heartfelt pleas as she looked over her shoulder with dark eyes that made it impossible to resist the tingling in his balls, “Please… give it to me… I want to feel you fill me… please.”
With a low groan, he pushed her all the way down as his cock began to throb. Pulse after pulse of white filled her tight tunnel as it flexed and fluttered around him. Rowena let out a giddy giggle as her nails scraped against his bollocks to try and squeeze out every drop. When he finished, he released her hips, leaving behind an indentation of his thumbs in her dimples.
With a wet plop, Rowena pulled herself off him. A small line of his seed dripped from her slit to land on his cock. Despite her fatigue, she mustered enough strength to lick him clean. It stirred his slowly softening member back to near total hardness. She snickered, voice tinged with equal parts lust and astonishment, “Do you ever tire?”
“Of course,” he chuckled, “though that hardly means I don’t want you.”
She gave his tip one last kiss before moving to his side, resting her head against his chest, “I’m afraid you’ve worn me out.” There was mischief in her dark blue eyes though, “But I’ll be happy to wake you appropriately in the morning.”
He smiled and pinched her side, “Or perhaps I’ll be the one to wake you.”
“And the rest of the Highlands considering that magical tongue of yours.” She certainly didn’t seem opposed to the idea.
Retrieving a bowl of water, he helped her clean herself before they both laid beneath the covers, slowly drifting off to sleep together.
In the darkness, nestled against his chest, Rowena spoke softly, “I want you to know… I think you were right to withhold the truth from me. Incredible as the tale is, it’s not the sort of thing you tell a stranger. That sort of truth requires time and trust.” She kissed him, just above his heart, “But I’m glad you finally told me.”
A weight he didn’t realize he’d been carrying lifted from his shoulders then. Pulling her closer to his side, he found himself falling into an untroubled slumber.
Comments
W.D. O'Neill
There's far more to draw from with the Norse gods than the Brythonic gods. That's the main reason I chose Freyja over her Brythonic counterpart. The other option I considered was the Celtic gods, and I still intend to incorporate them as well. I would say that Freyja was at least partly responsible for the end, but I don't intend for it to have consequences in nine months. I think Rowena would be bushy but well-maintained. Given her demeanor, it's unlikely she would like it unkempt. 'Fixed' probably would've been the best description rather than 'finite'.
Bantoo
OKAY! I've had a chance to read it all again and I still love it. This fic is easily my fav of your works and I stand by my previous comment about being glad that Harry and Rowena are now somewhat caught up on Harry's backstory and the fact he's not actually mad. I do have a couple questions though: 1. Why Freyja? The British Isles had gods before the Norse turned up and I'm just curious why you went with the Scandinavian pantheon and over a native Celtic/Brythonic one, or even the gods that the Saxons had before converting (since I doubt they'd be happy with the Church either for stealing their people). 2. In connection with 1, What does Freyja's existence mean for other deities? Are their other Pantheons around in this setting? 3. What're the chances that the meeting with Freyja is, at least partly, what made the two of them go at it at the end? xD Being a goddess who's domains include sex and fertility, I get the impression that any meeting with her will result in consequences within 9 months of it happening xD 4. Last question, not really relevant this one but still kinda is. In relation to that rather fun ending, would you think Rowena is likely to remain bushy? I personally prefer it, but I don't think you've really mentioned it since their first private moment in the tent. I'm just curious, this one's not really important. Final thing, which isn't really a problem but it did bring be out of the reading experience when I came across it. You wrote "The weavings of Skuld are never finite," but I don't think the word "finite" works particularly well here since it would imply that Skuld weavings are limited in something when I think you were going for "final"? If I'm wrong then hey ho, nothing lost. Still a great chapter and I can't wait for the next one!
travis btmb
Tftc
