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The third time Isolfr snaps and Viradechtis whines deep in her throat, Skjaldwulf looks at Vethulf, who presses his lips together and sighs. They have practice now, at the brutal dance that is Viradechtis mating, konigenwolf and wolfsprechend bound by need and a love that endures despite the twist of fate that makes the drive a joy for one and trial for the other.
Mar and Kjaran lean forward, eager, scenting sport, warm against each other, bright in their brother's senses. They know fate for a fickle mistress and will fight to hold their mastery, their place at Viradechtis' side.
***
The salve is ready, the furs made smooth; Isolfr paces, naked in the summer warmth, the stone and wooden privacy that the heall affords its queen. He will not lie, tense and burning with Viradechtis' need, waiting passive for the rush and swell, the moment when the konigenwolf decides that yes, these are her consorts, Kjaran, Mar, no others (still it is a wonder that she chooses two, not one, but Isolfr takes the gift of it no less). His jarls wait without, fierce in their own need, but knowing that which will bring their sprechend through the trying fire.
***
Viradechtis grins, wolf-wide, and sweeps her tail aside. Mar mounts and meets her first this time; Vethulf holding Isolfr in hands made gentle by grim will, as Skjaldwulf, hard past hope of gentleness fast presses in. Isolfr arches, crying out, undone, as Skjaldwulf groans, thrusting quick in slick and fierce abandon; Mar howls his completion as Skjaldwulf comes, seed drawn from deep to seek the matching spark that creates life within. Viradechtis sings strong within the pack-sense, bright with eager glee. Male-wolfness! Yes! And Vethulf's hand is twined with Skjaldwulf's, to grant Isolfr his own urgent, fierce release.
***
Now Kjaran growls low, dancing, eager for his turn, and Vethulf shudders at the force of need-desire raging in his blood, his shaft a rod of iron, hot and red and wet with seeping seed. Skjaldwulf's hands are gentle now, shifting Isolfr so, and thus, and guiding Vethulf in, that he might spend himself as Kjaran does. Again Isolfr arches, shudders, shouts and comes, his body wholly yoked to Viradechtis, stern ecstasy of love and heat and life's unyielding geas fast overriding all that would otherwise make only bitter agony alone instead of this hard dance of joining need.
***
The night descends, and ease, with quiet kisses pressed to weary eyes as Viradechtis curls, replete and sated, satisfied that all is right within her world, in boneless slumber fast with Mar and Kjaran nose to tail. Isolfr shivers, trembles with exhaustion, but his jarls know his need: they keep him warm and cradled close, but press not in nor take what only mating-need will give. That ease they give each other, and by now Isolfr believes and knows that he is safe within their arms. Love will find a way, and they have love. Thus it is enough.