Tales of the Tournaments

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The best of times, because Australia had finally hosted - well co-hosted a Women’s World Cup. The worst, because they had crashed out in fourth place, behind Spain, England and Sweden. They had lost, to Sweden. 

“I can’t believe we lost to Sweden.”

Kristie’s arms wrapped around Sam from behind and she squeezed gently. “To be fair, so did we. Sweden are just…very Sweden right now, doing Sweden things.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Okay, ow, that bloody well hurt,” she sighed, making Kristie look at her in concern. “I’m fine,” she backtracked, and the blonde American shook her head, keeping an arm tight around Sam as Alanna, Ellie, and Daan followed close behind. Steph, Kyra and Kat were nearby, too, keeping a close eye on their Captain.

“You’re not fine Samantha May and don’t tell me you are.”

Sam’s head came up and she narrowed her eyes at Kristie. “Remind me who’s supposed to be the Top here?”

“Yes ma’am but that goes out the window when you’ve got a head injury, as I told Ra--” She snapped her mouth shut, “well you know, multiple times. I’m yours now and I take care of you when you need me to, Sammy, alright?”

“Thank you Kristie,” Steph muttered.

“Yes, it is much appreciated, Kristen. Now, if I call your name, step forward.”

The Matildas came to attention, assembling in the locker room. Their three guests, Danielle van de Donk, Kristie Mewis, and Milly Clegg, each clung to a Matilda’s hand, not wanting to leave them alone to face this.

“Ellie, you are not in trouble, okay?” Miss Lisa reassured the little one, underscoring the fact that Sam and Clare (Hunt, in this case; Milly’s club teammate) were.

“Bu- but Mummy Sam hurt her head. She still get smacked?!”

“No little one. We have a special punishment for that. Your Mummy Sam is going to sit on my special mat and you, and Alanna, and even your Mummy Kristie can be by her offering comfort, okay? It will be bad, but just as deserved, not nearly as horrible as some of your other teammates, okay?” When Lisa said other, she cast a glance at Caitlin Foord, who had collided with Swedish captain Kosovare Asllani, drawing a foul, getting injured, and continuing to play!

“Some of us aren’t horrible people just for getting into horrible trouble, though,” Mackenzie was quick to say, sitting on the bench beside Caitlin and pulling her best friend into her lap, checking Caitlin over to make sure she was alright. “It’s okay Cait, it’s gonna be okay,” she murmured, rubbing her back.

“You’re correct, Miss Arnold. One action in one moment doesn't encapsulate a person's character, however there are still consequences for actions, yes?”

“Yes ma’am,” Mackenzie said reluctantly. “Every action has a consequence, whether good or bad.”

“But, appropriate consequences make the difference, that's why, Miss Foord you will also just  have time on the mat, but your time will be slightly different. Come here, please.”

Caitlin looked apprehensively at Lisa, but slowly got off Mackenzie’s lap and approached the older woman. Mackenzie followed close behind, in case Caitlin needed some further support, even though she hadn’t been asked.

“Different, ma’am?” Caitlin asked warily. She wasn’t looking forward to the mat in any case, but Lisa’s wording made her even more worried. Mackenzie squeezed Caitlin’s hand, standing next to her. “How is it different?” Caitlin asked, as respectfully as she could. Seeing how much trouble she was already in, she’d decided to try and be a good girl for Miss Lisa, to avoid any more. And Macca’s support helped.

“I'm sure you have heard of this, if you haven't experienced it yourself?” Lisa said as she took out a brown paper wrapped ginger plug.

This proceeded to get a watery gasp, but not from Caitlin herself. 

“N- no! No please! I'm good!” Ellie cried out.

“Shhh mijn lieverd, it's not for you, promise. I've got you.”

“Really, not for me?” Ellie asked as she leaned back into Daan’s embrace.

“You’re safe, Ellie. Not for you. Just hold onto Danielle. You don't have to watch, little one.” Miss Lisa reassured Ellie. 

“I’ve…heard of it,” Caitlin replied evasively, staring at the ginger plug with concern. She did not want that to be for what it was for, definitely not. “Do we have to, Miss Lisa, ma’am?”

“Yes, we have to. Over my lap, Caitlin Jade Foord. Arnold please grab her hands.”

Caitlin reluctantly obeyed the order, draping herself over Miss Lisa’s thighs, and relieved when Macca grabbed her hands. She clung tightly, looking into her best friend’s eyes so she could try to shut out the sensation of her shorts and knickers being pulled down, and worse, the ginger plug slipped between her bottom cheeks. She hissed as it went in. It had been some time since she’d taken anything back there and it certainly hadn’t been made of ginger. Ow fucking hell…She clamped down on the curse, knowing Lisa would just be angrier. Then her bottoms were pulled back up, holding the plug in place.

“On to the mat with you, naughty girl. Arnold will help you in place. Kristen can you please get Samantha settled on her mat?”

“Yes ma’am.” Kristie gave Sam a supportive squeeze. “Come on Sammy,” she coaxed, eyes filled with compassion as she settled the Matildas captain on the mat. Sam tried to squirm away, but that just made the points of the acupressure mat press deeper into her bottom, and she blinked back tears. 

“Ow fuck it hurts--”

“I know Sam,” Kristie whispered, rubbing her back. “I know, I’m here.”

“You can’t know, you didn’t use these things at Houston, did you?”

“No, not at Houston. But there were various stories from the national team circulating Gotham, and Press passed the thought to Kriegs.” Kristie shuddered at the thought. 

“Press gave Kriegs the idea? I never figured Press for a sadist,” Sam muttered, grimacing. 

“I imagine it had less to do with sadism and more with a possible connection between actual acupressure and her love of yoga?” Kristie responded. 

“I guess that makes sense, but all the same, remind me I owe Press a visit later.”

“Tobin might have something to say about that, though.”

“Enough chit-chat you two. Samantha is supposed to be reflecting on her actions, not plotting revenge.”

“I said a visit ma’am, not revenge. I just want to talk to Press.”

“That’s fine. My mistake. But you should be focused on why you're mad at the mat. There will be time for visits and phone calls later.

“Because, with all respect ma’am, it fucking hurts and I’m pretty sure acupressure mats weren’t invented for this.”

“You would be correct. This actually came from our cousins, the Canadians. They have a sizable population of Asian people,  who brought both yoga and alternative medicines, like acupuncture. But it was one Canadian in particular that came up with this doozy of a punishment. Care to take a guess?”

“Sinc?” Sam suggested with a grimace. “Now her I could figure for a sadist.”

“Correct! She played with Heath at Portland, who while reportedly hasn't used it yet, passed it on to family, including naturally Press who passed it to Kreiger. If you don't start spouting naughty language, you'll get a reprieve during the implement reswap, okay?”

“Now, on to the naughty girls who will be feeling this ornas that Miss Pernilla was gracious enough to loan me.”

“Catley, Polkinghorne, Raso, Hunt, and Gorry.”

“Mumma No!”

“Kyra Lillee Cooney-Cross! Your mum will be fine, you can even stay by her, just no more outbursts okay?”

“Yes Auntie Lisa.”

“Oh and I almost forgot, where is Fowler? Hello, little one. You did a great job! I'm super proud of you! You will only be getting my hand. Those of you waiting for the ornas, ten swats of my hand is just your warm-up. I don't bite, it's okay Mary.”

Mary was sucking on her lower lip, but she released it and nodded. “I did good Auntie Lisa?” she asked anxiously, following Kyra’s lead.

“You did great, little one. You have great things in front of you, I just know it, including more World Cups, and a shot at the Olympics next year, most likely. But first we have to deal with that foul you had, and probably some residual guilt hm? It’s just my hand, promise. Come on, let's have this over with.’

Mary looked at Lisa with wide, anxious eyes and nodded meekly.

She found herself tipped over Lisa’s thighs the next minute, tilted so her bottom was raised up and her shorts were left in place, but stretched tight by the position. Lisa’s hand smacked down over her shorts, ten smacks in quick succession that had Mary squirming and tearful.

“One more for you, little one, since this isn’t just a warm-up for you,” Lisa warned. “Hold still, Mary.”

Mary did her best, but as the final smack landed on her sit spots, she burst into tears. Lisa picked the sensitive little one up and gave her a reassuring hug.

“There you are little one, you did well for me, so well,” she soothed. “Now, it’s done for you Mary, you can go sit back down.” 

That wasn’t really what Mary wanted to do, but she went back to her chair to find one of her teammates had sneaked a cushion onto it, and sat down gratefully. 

“Hunt, you're next. Where are you?”

The twenty-four year old defender stepped forward, nervously tucking the end of her brown braid back into the bun it had been put up in. She secured it, then turned to Miss Lisa. “Present, ma’am,” she offered quietly. She had been standing next to their guest, Football Fern Milly Clegg, but the Kiwi teen was now ensconced between Daan and Ellie, held securely so she wouldn’t bolt.

“Good,” Lisa nodded. “Come here, then.” She took Clare into position, stretching her shorts tight just like Mary’s. “You’ll be getting ten with my hand for now,” she said. “Then you can go back to Milly for a bit. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Clare braced herself as the sharp smacks from Lisa’s hand rained down on her bottom. By the time the tenth had fallen, she was breathing hard, but she’d managed not to let the tears pooling in her eyes fall. She stood up when she was allowed, and went straight back to her charge, not wanting to think about what came next.

Milly flung herself into Clare’s arms. “Clare, that looked awfullest.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet if that’s what you think, little one…” Clare hugged Milly, patting her back. “Do yourself a favour and don’t watch. How about we don’t look, together. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Raso, here.”

The twenty-eight year old forward exchanged glances with Steph, who pointed toward Lisa meaningfully. “I’ll be right behind you Hayley,” she said, meaning it literally. “Don’t try anything stupid, you’re old enough to know better.”

Hayley sighed and went to Lisa. Steph’s right, it’s only ten smacks and not even bare, suck it up and get it over with Raso. Still, it was humiliating to have to put herself over Lisa’s knee and wait for it.

And being put there would be worse, she argued with herself as she took up position, closing her eyes as the smacks came. She just managed not to swear at the final, hardest swat, but it was a near thing.

Steph took her turn next, without needing to be called; she’d understood the pattern by then, and while she wasn’t eager for the discipline she knew it was her responsibility, as a captain, to accept it. Ten and it was over.

Then it was Kat’s turn, and as she stepped away from Kyra, Clare Polkinghorne grabbed hold of the twenty-one year old. “Settle, Kyra, before I settle you myself.”

Clare had been a captain in her time too - with Miss Lisa, no less, just like Sam and Steph were now, Kyra thought. She had no doubt Clare knew all Miss Lisa’s tricks, and immediately settled. Still, she couldn’t help an anxious whimper. “But Mumma.”

“I know, but it’s only ten and then you get her right back. Hold still,” Clare cautioned, and Kyra unwillingly did, as Kat took her smacks.

The second Kat was let up off Lisa’s knee, Kyra flew to her arms. “Mine.”

Kat took Kyra to one side, as Clare Polkinghorne went to Lisa, getting into position without fighting it. The former Captain wasn’t surprised when, instead of pulling her shorts taut, Lisa pulled them down. She was a little bit surprised - and embarrassed - that her knickers had come down, too, leaving her bottom entirely bare.

“I shouldn’t have to smack you, Clare Elizabeth. You’re thirty-four years old, you’ve played on this team for seventeen years for God’s sake. You’ve helped me as a captain of thisteam. That is why you’re getting your warmup on the bare bottom.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Clare whispered, ashamed. She closed her eyes and held still as Lisa’s smacks fell hard and fast, doing her best to keep still and take it. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

Her eyes shot open. Twelve? 

“Do you think you don’t deserve twelve, Clare?”

“Whatever you think is best, ma’am.”

“Good answer.” Lisa righted Clare’s knickers and shorts, and helped her up. “Try not to disappoint me again.”

“Ma’am.” Clare nodded quietly and resumed her place in the line.

“Hunt. Front and center. It's time to seal the lesson. You know that if it wasn't for you or Polkinghorne’s mistakes we might very well have drawn to a close and had a decent shot in a penalty shootout, don't you? So both of your smacks will be harder than the others, as hard as I can give them, on the bare bottom. Into position with you, no dallying now.”

“Clare!” Milly burst out, grabbing both Clares’ hands, but looking worriedly at Clare Hunt, her new club teammate, who was only a few years older than Milly and, she thought, couldn’t have been in this bad of trouble before. It sounded like the worst ever. “Ma’am please,” the Kiwi teen begged.

“Milly, no.” Clare Hunt took Milly aside and pulled the girl into her arms, giving her a tight hug. This can’t count as dallying, Milly needs help. “It’s okay little girl, Miss Lisa’s right, me and P could have made a good difference today and we didn’t. We failed the team, and that means trouble.”

“B-but you’re not failures.”

“No, no,” Clare soothed. “Lisa didn’t say that. She knows we’re good footballers, and we didn’t perform to the best of our ability, that’s why she’s upset she knows she can expect better. Now, little one, can you do me a big favour, and go sit with Alanna? She can help you not watch, you can both not watch together. Okay?”

Slowly, wide-eyed, Milly nodded. She looked at Lisa for permission.

“Go ahead, little one. I even have something that might help.”

Milly smiled gratefully when Miss Lisa produced multiple sets of noise canceling headphones.

Alanna took the young Football Fern on her lap, and the two put in their noise cancelling headphones together. She turned the teen against her chest, resting Milly’s head on her shoulder so she didn’t have to look, and rocked her gently as the two Clares went to take their punishment from Miss Lisa.

The two defenders were ordered to bend over and put their hands on the bench, which they did, the position tightening their shorts over their bottoms again. Clare Polkinghorne lay her hand over her younger teammate’s protectively, helping to keep her in position, and Clare Hunt drew a shuddering breath.

“It’s going to be terrible. Isn’t it?”

“Bad enough, but I’m right here, little one. We’ll take it together.” Polkinghorne summoned her best reassuring captain tone, and Hunt nodded, trying to believe her.

“Alright.”

At first, Miss Lisa focused solely on Clare Hunt, landing ten swats each burning just a little more than the last. But after this however, Miss Lisa upped the amount of strength she used. To the point of Polkinghorne’s statement, Miss Lisa alternated between the two footballers, keeping an unorthodox pattern so they couldn't guess the next swat. However, before long, all of the swats had been given out and their clothes were set to rights as tears dribbled down their cheeks. 

Polkinghorne helped Clare Hunt stand up, and when Lisa let them go, led her back over to Milly, still snuggled in Alanna Kennedy’s lap. 

“Catley, Raso. One at a time, the other will grab your hands.”

Steph decided to take the initiative and at Lisa’s gesture, knelt on a cushion behind the bench, holding Hayley’s hands for her (more like her forearms, as Hayley braced herself on Steph’s shoulders). She wasn’t sure what Lisa had in mind this time but did her best to ensure that Hayley wouldn’t fall.

Before Hayley knew what was happening, the first swat of the dreaded Ornas connected with her bottom. 

This was followed by another swat across both her bottom cheeks, three swats across her sit spots that started to cause tears to fall, and a final swat across the tops of her thighs. The last swat was not only the worst one of this paddling, but the worst swat Hayley remembered going back a good couple of years.

Moments later, she was directed to swap places with Steph Catley. 

Steph helped Hayley kneel down on the cushion in her place, and moved to the other side of the bench, trying not to put too much pressure on Hayley’s shoulders as she braced herself for her punishment. This was going to be bad enough, she didn’t need to make it worse by arguing back to Lisa.

Lisa, for her part, didn't say anything, choosing to let the ornas do the talking for her.

After baring Steph's bottom, Miss Lisa took a practice swing, before landing the first swat across Steph's bottom cheeks. This was followed by another swat to the center of her bottom cheeks. Much in the same way that Hayley took hers, Miss Lisa landed swats in sets of two across her sit spots and thighs, before the final smack, number seven, was landed in the center of her bottom. 

“Up off the mat Samantha, you're okay. You can stand for now.”

As Steph and Hayley went back to their cubbies, Kat's phone started to ring, it was Clara.

Sam got up immediately, as Kat answered her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, kitty Kat. What were you thinking? I want you to put me on speaker phone, okay?”

“You’re on speaker Garcia,” Sam drawled, having gotten into Criminal Minds because of Kristie, who heard the remark and rolled her eyes.

“Good, glad to hear it, captain. I’d love to know just what you thought you were doing but never mind, my focus here is Kat and Kyra.”

“Mummy Clara,” Kyra protested. “Mumma didn’t do anything.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me, little one. And I haven’t even started talking to you yet.”

“Not fair.”

“Is that backchat, Kyra Lillee?”

“Ummm….No?” Kyra tried hopefully.

“I would hope not, but it sounds like it. I have a smacking with both your names on it later and if you can’t stop this recklessness, Katrina-Lee and Kyra Lillee, I’ll just have to make sure that you have a tangible reminder of why you shouldn’t, until you come back to me. I know that Miss Pernilla and Miss Lisa know where the mats are…”

“Mummy Clara!” Kyra protested. “Please, not those!”

“I think that's exactly why it's needed, Kyra Lillee. Not long, just a bit. I imagine Foord still has time left and can take your place.”

“Mummy please,” Kyra begged, “I’ll be good, please don’t make Miss Lisa do it…”

“Oh little one. No one makes Lisa do anything. I’m sure she’ll be happy to put you in your place for me.”

“That’s right Clara,” Miss Lisa agreed. “It sounds like Kyra could use the lesson. Don’t you think so, little girl?”

“No Auntie Lisa,” Kyra protested. “I’m being good. Me and Mumma are being good.”

“You are. However, I'm not about to ignore your Mummy’s advice. It might do good to cut off your tantrum, and you would want your Mumma there for support, no?”

“I want my Mumma,” Kyra agreed, clinging anxiously to Kat, who carded her fingers through Kyra’s dark hair gently.

“I’m right here little one,” Kat promised. “I’m not going anywhere.” Her bottom was still stinging but she wasn’t going to let that keep her from comforting Kyra.

“I'm told that Magda is okay, my loves. If it is okay with Miss Lisa, she will be stopping by after, but you need to go sit down for me. Okay?”

“O-okay Mummy,” Kyra agreed with a sniffle. “I’m glad Auntie Magda’s okay.”

“Yep. I know that played a part in both of your reckless actions, or at least I hope so. Can you go sit for me, how about just until Sofia comes for the implement reswap, that won't be too long will it?”

“I hope not,” Kyra said anxiously. “Don’t want that Ornas here.”

“I understand it's scary, but a text from one of the Swedes says she's not even five minutes away. Then the ornas will be gone okay?”

“Okay Mummy,” Kyra repeated, feeling calmer.

“Good girl. Mummy loves you, both of you, always. Do you need me for anything else, Lisa?”

“No, I'm fine. Thanks for asking though Clara.”

“No problem. My loves I have to go, but Mummy loves you. Bye….”

“Byeeee, we love you too, Mummy.”

“Well, you heard your Mummy, on to the mat, little one.”

Kyra sniffled, but Kat squeezed her hand supportively. 

“It’s alright sweetie, Mumma’s here, you don’t want to disobey Mummy or make trouble for Auntie Lisa do you?”

Kyra shook her head, and reluctantly followed Lisa and Kat over to the acupressure mat. There was a thin towel spread over it, which made Kat hopeful it wouldn’t be too terrible for the little one. She sat next to the mat on the bench, and helped Kyra settle on it, all her clothes still in place. Even with that, though, Kyra couldn’t help an anxious whine.

“It hurts Mumma.”

“Shh, I know, I know. Try and hold still if you can,” Kat suggested, knowing that was a tall order for her little wiggle worm. Sure enough, Kyra was squirming unhappily. 

“I can’t Mumma, it hurts.”

Kat sighed and held Kyra’s hand, stroking her palm soothingly. “I know it does. I’m sorry sweetheart.” 

“Why is everyone concerned about her, but none of you showed any concern when I started squirming. What the Fook is wrong with that picture?”

“This is your punishment. To my knowledge, you don't have a Mummy at home for smacks when you get back. That was strike one for the naughty words, Caitlin Jade.”

(Knock knock)

“Hello! Is this a bad time?”

“Sofia!” Emily moved to greet her friend and club teammate. Lisa had no objection to this, if purely for the reason that, that's who she would have sent as the Australian representative, and Emily wasn’t disappointing her because the footballer might have come to greet her friend, but she still managed to pick up the ornas during her walk over and complete the swap wordlessly before conversation began, as not to forget Sofia’s purpose for visiting. 

“I'm also happy to let you all know that Magda is going to be okay and was planning on stopping by after everything was finished?” Sofia staged it as a question, looking in the direction of Lisa because she could say no. Sofia wanted to be respectful because her bottom wasn't in the line of fire so far and she preferred to keep it that way.

“That’s completely fine, Sofia. We're all glad to hear that. If we don't play each other before then, I hope you have a happy New Year, hopefully see you in Paris.”

“Same to all of you.”

“Well I fooking don't!”

Sofia shrugged it off, continuing to walk in the opposite direction, but deep down inside she was hurt by that remark. She did get a teeny bit of satisfaction from the next sentence out of Miss Lisa’s mouth before she was no longer able to hear the conversation. 

“Caitlin Jade Foord, one more of those out of you and you’ll be tasting soap while sitting on that mat, little girl.”

“Kyra, little one, you can get up. You're finished. That will count as your punishment, okay?” Kyra scrambled to her feet, eyes wide, and clung to Kat like a koala. “Thank you Auntie Lisa, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be good,” she said earnestly, tears trickling down her cheeks.as she looked at the older footballer. Kat stroked Kyra’s hair, meeting Lisa’s gaze as well. “Thank you for letting her off, Miss Lisa,” she said quietly. It wasn’t as though Kyra had been very naughty, and she was firmly littlespaced and upset at the moment, so Lisa had every reason to choose lenience. Still, Kat was grateful on her little one’s behalf.

“Now that I have our slipper back and that ornas back where it belongs, we have one final thing to take care of. Arnold, Van Egmond here. Now, please. And will someone please hold the brat down.”

Steph Catley  took it upon herself to go stand by Caitlin and hold her in place. Cait shot her a look but didn’t fight it, especially when Steph grasped her shoulders - the gesture could be one of reassurance and affection, but put her equally well placed to move her around on the mat if she was so inclined. Still, she couldn’t help a small protest. “Steph…”

“No Cait. I know we like to have a good time at Arsenal, but I’m your Captain right now and this isn’t a joke. Besides, we both know Miss Lisa’s equally able to remind me of my place as she is you for yours. She’s just proved that, I don’t feel like crossing her again. I’m here for you, Cait, but please try and keep a civil tongue in your head alright? You don’t want Kim hearing it from Miss Lisa.”

Caitlin grimaced. “No thank you. She’ll probably hear enough.”

“Probably, and I’ll be right there with you in the Captain’s office, just like always.” Steph moved one of her hands to take Caitlin’s and gave it a quick squeeze. “But try not to give me any more trouble, alright?”

“Don’t think there’s any more opportunity anyway,” Caitlin muttered.

Lisa ignored the quiet discussion,  instead turning to the task at hand.

“Come here Arnold. This is mostly about guilt relief, okay?”

Macca nodded, settling over Miss Lisa’s thighs. She took a trembling breath cause it wasn't often that she found herself in this position. Keepers were least likely to get in big trouble.

Not a moment later, the plimsoll struck down on her bottom. It was bearable at first, her shorts and knickers were still in place, but the sting slowly started to build and by the tenth smack, tears were pooling in her eyes and by the time Miss Lisa landed the eighteenth, and final smack, tears were streaming steadily down her face as she was made to stand up. 

“Switch places with Emily, please.”

Mackenzie looked down, she hadn’t even realized that Emily was kneeling down, holding her hands the entire time. She was quick to switch positions however, and more than ready to hold Emily's hands.

Emily, for her part, obediently stretched herself across Miss Lisa’s thighs, also taking a  deep breath, because similar to Macca, she wasn’t in this position often. 

She closed her eyes and held Mackenzie’s hands tightly, hissing as the first smack of the plimsoll fell across her shorts.

Nine more followed in quick succession, and then she was allowed up off Miss Lisa’s lap, quickly getting up.

“Sorry Miss Lisa,” she said quietly, Mackenzie echoing her. Lisa nodded.

“You’re forgiven, both of you.”

The door to the Matildas locker room opened and closed. 

The Matildas looked around to see Magdalena Eriksson walk through the door, face and eyes red, blonde hair disheveled. She didn’t look like the victorious captain (or one of the captains) of the opposing team  come to gloat, that was for sure. In fact, from her expression, you’d think Sweden had lost to Australia, when that was definitely not what had happened.

She made a beeline for Sam, Matildas scattering before her, and knelt down in Sam’s view. The Matildas captain was currently wrapped in Kristie Mewis’ arms, and the American blonde glared at the Swede.

“You hurt her, you..you…I can’t believe you didn’t even stop to help or apologize! If you were anyone else on your team I would hit you right now. Well, maybe not Sofia, but anyone else.”

“Sofia wouldn’t have knocked one of yours over and left them there, especially if it was Alyssa,” Sam said, hurt clear in her eyes. 

Magda grimaced. “I deserved that,” she admitted. “And Mewis, I’d deserve it if you hit me. Though I’d rather you didn’t, because Pernille would want a go at you next. Will it make you feel better to know she’s first in line for my bum when we get back home?”

“I don’t need to know what you and Harder do in the bedroom.”

Magda rolled her eyes, cheeks flushed. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

But it had gotten a giggle out of Sam, and so Kristie was satisfied. “Feeling a bit better, love?”

“Almost,” Sam said quietly.

Magda nodded. “I’m sorry, princessan. I swear I had no idea it was you, though I shouldn’t have done it even if it wasn’t you, and your Mor has promised to make that point very clear, even if I hadn’t got it already.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Mor’s that mad?”

Magda nodded. “Or that disappointed,” she added, and Sam winced.

“That’s worse, Mamma.”

“I know.” Magda shuddered and reached out for Sam, who flung herself into Magda’s arms, holding tight.

“I’m so sorry princessan. Mamma loves you.”

“Love you too, Mamma,” Sam whispered. “I forgive you.”

Relief swept through Magda, and she held Sam tighter. What was coming for her would come eventually, sooner than she was ready for, but with Sam’s forgiveness, her heart felt lighter. The world righted itself, and she could breathe.

Pernille’s anger, she could handle, because she knew Pernille wouldn’t stop loving her because of it. She was angry because she loved Magda, and Sam. But losing her adopted child’s regard would have been worse. Now, though, Magda was sure it’d be alright.

“Hullo, my loves! Are you both feeling better?”

Hearing Pernille’s voice but not seeing her, obviously because she wasn't there, momentarily freaked out all three footballers, despite the fact that Kristie knew it was going to happen. 

“Mor?” Sam twisted around in Magda’s arms, looking for the source of Pernille’s voice.

Kristie held up her phone, turning on the video so Sam could see Pernille’s face. Sam sagged in relief. “It’s really you.”

“It’s really me,” Pernille confirmed. “Don’t forget, we have our summer get together when you get back, and plenty to celebrate, I think.” She smiled at Sam and Kristie. “Even if your Mamma and I have plenty to discuss before we see you, Sam.”

“I remember,” Sam agreed. “We’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” Pernille promised. “Safe travels, my loves.”

“Thank you, love.” When Pernille had ended the call, Magda gave Sam one more firm hug. “I’ll see you soon, princessan. I need to go back to my team, but I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she promised. “Tell Mor I’m not mad? Maybe that’ll help?”

“Maybe it will,” Magda agreed. She hugged Alanna, Ellie, Kat and Kyra on her way out, then headed back to her team.

Everything was sorted…except for what Pernille would have to say to her when she got home. Or not say. That remained to be seen. For now, Sweden had secured the bronze medal, and that was enough. Not what they’d wanted, but good enough.