“I didn't mean to be a problem, Bran,” King said after a moment of thought. “If you ask, I will maintain my distance from Annie.”

Bran’s immediate thought was [i] Yes, please, do that.[/i] He was still unsure about King's presence in his community; there were simply too many unknowns. But just as quickly as he'd thought that, a second and then third thought came to him: [i]No, we need you here, I think. You're a good man from what I've seen so far, [/i], followed quickly by [i]And Annie likes you, you make her happy, which makes ME happy, and even though I barely know you, I think I'd rather have you ‘deflower’ my child over that prick Paul.[/i]

Bran almost laughed at that thought but contained himself. 

King added, “All you have to do is ask.”

Bran delayed responding to King by indicating the need to tack again. They swung the stern of the boat to port, aiming the bow away from the shore. Bran looked to the other boat, finding its crew mirroring the action, then looked to King as the man adjusted the lines to maximize the power of the wind against the sail. 

“I won't ask that of you,” he said when the other man looked at him again. “My daughter seems to enjoy your company. And…”

Bran considered speaking to King about his daughter’s likely desire to [i]breed[/i] with him, as well as his own uncertainties as to whether or not he disapproved of it. In the end, Bran finished with a simple, “It's fine.”

A whistle sounded across the water, drawing Bran’s attention to the other boat. He found his daughter excitedly pointing north. He crouched down enough to follow her gesture under the boom. 

“We need to get to shore,” Bran told King with some urgency. He drew the other man's attention to the dark clouds on the horizon to the north. “It'll be here in a couple of hours, maybe less. We don't want to be out here.”

Bran had noticed the increasing wind speed, but until an eastern tack had taken them out far enough to see past the point to the north of them, he'd failed to notice the building storm. He felt stupid and even a bit irresponsibly reckless for not having noticed the danger earlier. 

It took nearly an hour to reach shore, despite having only been three or four miles off shore; they’d been outside a line of cliffs when Annie pointed out the storm, and it had taken a half dozen tacks to get them to a section of open beach. 

Once ashore, they hurried to pull the boats up to safety, then – even farther up the shore where they found ground firm enough to hold the tent stakes – quickly raised a hide tent. It was already pouring down by the time they were secure inside. Over the next hour, the wind got worse, howling and threatening to rip the stakes out of the ground. 

“We'll be okay,” Bran reassured King. “We've survived worse storms than this in this tent.”

Annie untied the bed rolls, laying out the layers with Paul's help while Bran built a fire using the seasoned tinder and kelp [i]logs[/i] they'd brought with them. Digging a shallow ditch around the interior where the tent’s walls meet the ground, they were able to keep the rain falling on and near the tent from reaching the one large bed that the four of them were meant to share.

“I'm tired,” Annie announced once all the preparation for bedtime was done. Moving to stand with her back to the three men, she very quickly shed everything but her panties, before kneeling to retrieve a long sleeping gown from her bag, don it, then turn back to her tent mates. Looking between the men from her village with whom she'd shared a bed on campouts before, Annie asked in their first tongue, “Jeg tror jeg sover mellem jer to, ikke?”

King couldn't know that the girl had asked [i]I guess I'm sleeping between you two, yes?[/i] As her father threw back the bedding and the three of them began settling in, he would probably figure it out, though. 

“Take the edge nearest the fire,” Bran told King. The man smiled, explaining, “You're as close to a [i]gæst[/i] … a guest … as we've ever had, so…”

Paul – who realized that the sleeping arrangement put the newcomer next to [i]him[/i] – gave Bran a nervous look, then whispered, “Are we [i]sure[/i] that he isn't sick … [i]infected?[/i]”

“No,” Bran said without hesitation; he'd decided that it was necessary to give King the benefit of the doubt when this trip was first conceived. Knowing that it would [i]bug[/i] Paul to no end, Bran said, “We could always put [i]me[/i] outside you and King next to Annie.”

Paul looked to the young woman who he hoped to soon be fucking, finding her smiling playfully. He grimaced, saying as he prepared for bed, “No … it's fine.”

Annie’s smile was replaced by an over dramatized pouting of her bottom lip, followed by a giggle. She was the first to be settled down in bed, saying, Godnat, Papa. Godnat, Paul.” Then sitting up to make eye contact with her new [i]crush[/i], Annie finished, “Goodnight, King.”