Life On the Fjords

Child's Play

The weeks that came after were tiresome. Late June became mid-July; the days were longer and the workload was heavier. In that time, it would take Jack more time than usual thanks to the bruises on his ribs and the muscles in his legs seizing up with the slightest movement. It would be well into the evening before he finished what was normally only a few hours' worth of work, and he still had dinner to make for the twins and the house to clean up after.

Jamie and Mary seemed to be back to normal—it's been said that children are resilient, and the two had continued to spend their summer playing in the forest or fields. Jack didn't care what they did at this point as long as they were away from the house, as far away from the beast as they could be.

Early one night, Jack recounted the money he had saved up, all hidden in a burlap sack underneath the floorboard in his bedroom. He was so tense whenever he checked his hidden stash that sometimes he forgot to breathe. He froze up any time he heard footsteps walking past his bedroom and made not a single sound until the noise was gone.

No one was to find out, not even his siblings he so dearly was trying to save.

Just sell a few more things, anything that looked remotely valuable that he could fetch a nice price off of. His father's old clothes that were going to be passed down to him anyway, what remained of his mother's old things... If only Jack had more to give, he would've been out of there months ago. Jack sighed as he finished counting and put the sack back under the floorboard. Just another year. A year-and-a-half, maybe. He estimated as he went back over the additions he'd written down on a sheet of paper. If he had the freedom to sell all the animals on the farm, Jack would be a rich man overnight... but none of this was his. He might share a name with him, but the property and all its assets were still owned by the beast.

The problem with this place was that everyone here worked for free—on the outside, Jack could have a job that paid him, helped him maintain the income he needed to provide for his siblings, the wife and children he would someday have... He never wanted to have to ask for money. As long as he was capable of getting it himself, he would.

He noticed that the room next door had gone quiet and wondered if Jamie and Mary had worn themselves out early tonight. Jack took his lantern and cracked the door open to see they were both dead asleep in their beds. Mary was snuggled with her favorite doll, one she wouldn't get rid of no matter how many times the beast said she should outgrow dolls. It had been sewn by their mother, and it was the only thing she had from her. Their mother had wanted to sew them many things; dresses, scarves, blankets... All those desires must have been forgotten once she left.

Jamie was hardly protected by his blanket, and by instinct, Jack padded inside and brought the blanket up to his shoulders. His brother stirred, but didn't wake. Jack took more care in keeping quiet as he tip-toed back out of the room. Once the door was shut, he grabbed his shoes and hurried outside.

...

Jack had needed tonight.

Just a moment of not worrying about his father, his sister, his brother, his chores, the money he had stored away.

"There you go," Elsa whispered tenderly as he was reduced to a moaning, gasping mess, "doesn't that feel nice?"

"Yes—Ohhh... God—!" He clung onto Elsa's skirt for dear life as her hand stroked, pumped, and soothed his sex. Her thumb playfully circled over the tip as she slowed her hand, but Jack gave her a look of protest. "Please–!" He didn't care how needy he sounded; it almost hurt when she'd slowed down. His head was in her lap and above him was the sight of her pale, luminescent eyes. Her other, free hand was lovingly pushing aside the spikes of bangs across his forehead. He choked on the cool mountain air.