COF 09

 As the sun rose in the early morning sky, thus did Lenneth’s fever break. She stretched languidly in the bed, her arms going up over her head, her body raising slightly off the mattress. She felt well rested and safe in her cocoon of blankets, as if nothing could ever harm her again so long as she stayed in this bed, nay in this very room. But she knew that was foolish, and with a sigh of protest, she opened her eyes, eyelids fluttering open, blinking against the sunlight as her eyes slowly grew adjusted to it.

She stayed on her back for a few minutes, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling as the past day’s events slowly flooded back into her memory. She turned to her side with an angry snort, and stopped up short as she saw her captor mere inches from her. He lay sleeping in a lounge chair, looking uncomfortable as he slouched over, his head resting on his hand. An open book dangled off his knee, precariously close to falling off, while many others lay scattered on the floor.

Did he stay here all night? She wondered, noting his disheveled appearance. His jacket was off, his mustard yellow shirt unbuttoned down to his navel, the thin opening giving off flashes of his pale skin. His brown hair was tousled and messy from sleep, his bangs falling into his eyes, while his glasses lay on the night stand next to her. His sleeping face bereft of his normal expressions, that of smirks and leers looked almost innocent now, and Lenneth had to admit, if only to herself, the necromancer was handsome. She shook her head, trying to chase away the thought and concentrate on why he was here. What had scared her so badly in the night, that had made her ask him to stay with her? And why did she feel so…so pleased that he had honored that request?

Most of the night was a blur to her, lost to fever and poison. She remembered only bits and pieces, mainly the events that took place just after she was poisoned by the manticore. She blushed, remembering how she had struggled in Lezard’s arms, how weak she had been. If he had wanted to, he could have done anything to her, and she would have been helpless to resist. And yet he had behaved himself, acting in a most unexpected manner, treating her wounds and doing nothing else. It was a relief to her, to know he could keep his hands to himself when the situation called for it.

She sat up in bed, blankets sliding off her body, looking around the room. There was two doors, one slightly open, the other closed. She headed towards the open one, instinctively knowing the closed one had to be the one that led out into the tower. She knew Lezard wouldn’t be so careless as to leave that one open! The other led to the bathroom, and she shut the door behind her. A mirror was framed over the sink, and she was dismayed to see how pale her reflection was. She wondered how much worse she would have looked if she had been sick for more than a day, marveling again at how weak this human body was.

She began unbuttoning the back of her slip, determined to see the worst of her injuries. With a lick of her lips, she braced herself, turning sideways to catch her back’s reflection. She was astonished to see nothing but the smooth expanse of unbroken skin, the claw marks gone. She reached back, touching that skin, thinking it an illusion. But it was real underneath her hand, as though she had never been harmed at all. A smile broke out on her face, relief at escaping being permanently marked by the manticore. She reworked her shift closed, and reentered the bedroom, looking at the sleeping necromancer. Did he have something to do with this? She knelt down, poking at the books on the floor. She picked one up, flipping through it’s pages, seeing lessons and advice on the curative properties of herbs, long winded spells on status and yes, even healing spells were written down in the book.

With a smile she rose, and went to walk past the wizard. An arm suddenly reached out, grabbing her round the waist. “And where do you think you’re going?!” Lezard demanded, pulling her into his lap. She gasped soundlessly, finding herself situated across his legs on her back, even as the book fell onto the floor. He looked angry, and he stared down at her, his eyes narrowing as he squinted to see without his glasses.

“Lezard, I…back to bed?” She offered timidly, confused by how mad he seemed.

“Bed?” He blinked, and some of the storm clouds in his eyes dissipated. But he still looked at her with some suspicion.

“Did you think I was trying to sneak out of here?” Lenneth asked, trying to sit up. He tightened his arm around her waist, holding her still against him. “I’ll take that as a yes…” She sighed, not liking his distrust of her.

He didn’t reply, instead blinking sleep filled eyes as he glanced around, clearly searching for something. “Here…” She said, leaning across his chest, to reach towards the night stand. Her body brushed against his as she stretched out her arm, her face near the crook in his shoulder. Kissing close. he mused inwardly. But she didn’t kiss him. Instead her fingers grasped hold of his gold rimmed glasses, and she shifted, turning to look at him. He could see that she paused, but not the widening of her eyes as she saw his face up close and personal, appreciating his good looks. How she marveled at the color of his eyes, having never seen a purple iris before. His eyes were truly unique among both the gods and mortals, and she wondered how he came about them.

Lezard looked at her puzzled. He could feel her staring and wondered why. Did he look that different without his glasses? He wished he could see her face better, even at this close a distance her face was a partial blur, causing him to squint to make out her expression better.

“Sorry…” She said at last, and slid his spectacles onto his face for him. He reached up to touch her hand, curious as to this unasked for assistance. She came into clarity, blue eyes staring into his, fighting back a smile. “You have beautiful eyes.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” He asked, half joking, half serious.

A small frown appeared on her face, a look she wore far too often around him. She pulled back so that their breaths weren’t on each other’s face, distancing herself as best she could, considering he still held her prisoner on his lap. “My illness is gone.” She said abruptly, lightly touching his hand with hers. “Thank you.” She said this a bit gruffly, licking her lips nervously. “Thank you…” She repeatedly more softly. “For taking care of me…for nursing me back to health…”

“It was my pleasure to do so.” Lezard told her, surprised by her words. “I hadn’t expected any thanks from you though.”

She sat silent on his lap, mulling over his words. “I…I give thanks when needed…when earned.” She said at last. “You have merited that at least.”

“Only that?” He asked wistfully, and she gave him a dark look. “Right…well then…you’re welcome.”

“I also saw my back…did you do that?” Lezard nodded, and Lenneth fought to keep her emotions off her face. She was grateful for the healing, but some small part of her had hoped it was a sign her divinity was returning to her. That this miraculous healing meant she was becoming a Goddess once again. She couldn’t keep the sadness completely out of her eyes as she said, “Then you have my thanks again.”

“Valkyrie, why do you look so sad…” He asked, stroking her face.

“Do you really need to ask?”

“No…” He sighed. “I guess I don’t.” His hand trailed across from her cheek to her lips, fingers nimbly tracing the lines of her mouth. She turned her head to the side, shrugging away the touch of him on her lips. She felt him grasp her hair, pulling it back from the side of her neck, to place a kiss on her skin. She shifted annoyed, turning mad eyes at him. “At least that look is gone from your face.” He said before she could hiss out an angry retort.

“What? You expect me to believe you did that purely to make me forget my unhappiness?” She demanded.

“Well…not entirely for that reason.” Lezard smirked at her. “I happen to enjoy kissing you. It worked, didn’t it?” He asked as she began struggling in his grip, trying to stand. He easily held on to her waist, holding her against him. “Let me up.” She ordered him, slapping at his hands. With a light chuckle, he released her, and she quickly scrambled free before he could changed his mind.

Standing, she turned, hands on hips and glared at him. “You’re incorrigible!”

“My fans wouldn’t have me any other way.” He flashed a grin at her, and she stared at him perplexed by his comment. “Never mind.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Midgard humor is lost on Goddesses.” Another frown from her made him sigh. “You give me that look far too much, Lady Valkyrie. Surely a face as expressive as yours is capable of a smile on occasion.”

“Give me something to smile about, and I will.” She said softly, sitting down edge of the bed. Her words gave him pause, and he considered them carefully. “Alas. I fear I do not know how to accomplish that feat.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose, sadly looking at her. “If I did, I would have you smiling all the time.”

Lenneth looked away from him. “No one can be happy all the time…” She said softly.

“Surely the Gods are…” He began, but she cut him off, slamming a fist against the mattress. “Do you think divinity grants perfect happiness? That we Gods have no problems of our own?” She let out a humorless laugh. “Is that what you think?!” He gaped at her, shocked by her outburst. “For all your wisdom, all your books…” She gestured at the mess on the floor. “You understand nothing.”

“Then help me to understand!” He grasped her by the shoulders, giving her a slight shake. She looked at him, unshed tears in her eyes. “Please…tell me what’s wrong…” Lezard leaned his forehead against hers, and she thought for a second her tears might fall.

“It’s…It’s nothing…” Lenneth pulled away, eyes downcast. “I’m just worn out from yesterday. I’ve never been sick before…”

“Valkyrie…” She placed her fingers against his lips, cutting him off. “You know, that isn’t even my name…not all of it at least…”

“Would you like to tell me your true name then?” Lezard asked, as her hand fell away from his face. She contemplated this, at last shrugging her shoulders. “Why not. You were certainly powerful enough to work your spells without knowing it. What harm could there be in telling you. Besides…” She looked him squarely in the eyes. “I think you earned the right to know it. It’s Lenneth…Lenneth Valkyrie.”

“Lenneth…” He repeated, uttering it in a breathy whisper. “It’s a fine name…lovely like you.”

“Do not try to flatter me…not now…” With a weary sigh, she laid back down, not looking at him. She felt the bed move and shift as the necromancer sat down on it’s edge, peering down at her with worry in his eyes. “Lezard…why me…why did you choose me? There are other Goddesses far more beautiful than I.”

He looked at her, seeing her words were sincere. “You really believe that?” She nodded, and he let out a chuckle. “Then you’ve never truly looked at yourself in a mirror before. I have seen these other Goddesses and found them lacking. Not just in looks, but in personality, your strength of conviction, your passion.”

“How can you say that? You don’t know me at all…”

“Ah, now it is you who presume to speak on something you know little of.” He reprimanded her gently. “I thoroughly researched you, my dear Lenneth.”

“Bah…research…” She scoffed at this. “What good is it if it cannot even tell you my name.” She thought Lezard’s cheeks might have tinged red at this, but he turned his face to the side so quickly she couldn’t be sure. “Did you just randomly select a Goddess for your own amusement?”

“No!!” His temper flared, eyes angry as he glared at her. “Do not make so little of my love for you! Not something so strong!”

Silence for a minute, the two staring at each other with heated eyes. “Fine…” She said at last, and gave a toss of her head. “I’ll choose my words more carefully next time.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and she searched for a hint of sarcasm in Lezard’s voice. But there was none.

“Would you tell me how it happened? Please?” Lenneth truly was curious. “The first time I met you…I recall you saying something about having known about me for several months now. What did you mean?”

“Ah, so you do remember that time.” A hint of a smile danced upon his lips. “Good to know I made some sort of lasting impression on you.”

“Its not everyday a…” She hesitated, the word madman on the tip of her tongue. “…a man calls me to his tower to confess his love to me. Although I’m not sure you would like to know just what sort of impression your murderous actions gave me.”

“I could hazard a guess.” He said wryly. “However, seeing you for the first time impressed upon me quite a different reaction than yours. When was it…?” He mused to himself, adjusting his glasses. “I was still a student at the university in Flenceburg. It was autumn, the air crisp with a hint of the coming ice dancing along the breeze.” His eyes grew distant in remembrance. “I was cutting class that day. Something I was doing more and more often, preferring my own studies to that of the college’s curriculum. They were so far behind my own ambitions…so mundane and ordinary. Much of what I wanted to learn about was forbidden…many of the ancient textbooks burned or under lock and key.” Lezard smirked as he boasted. “Not that anything as simple as locks and chains could keep me out when I was determined to learn.”

“My thirst for knowledge is what led me to creating the Philosopher’s stone. They said it was impossible to do, but I did it. It was infuriating to have to keep that a secret, I wanted my genius recognized. But at the same time I realized that only a fool would allow such a treasure be unveiled to the world. It was mine, and mine alone.” He let out a wistful sigh, mourning the loss of his stone.

“And me? Did it show you me?” Lenneth asked.

“Yes, but that came later.” Lezard told her. “First I had to see you with my own eyes. I was about to leave the university’s grounds, when a sound from the alley caught my attention. It was as though a great bird had taken flight, it’s heavy wings flapping thunderously in the air. I’m not sure what compelled me to take a closer look…was it curiosity? It certainly wasn’t a foolish whim on my part, I had great confidence, even in those days that whatever it was, my magic could defend against it. And so I stepped closer, cautiously peering around the corner into the dirty alley. And do you know what I saw?” Lenneth shook her head, silent as she listened to the tale he spun.

“I saw you…a Valkyrie with shining silver hair, that glittered like a sapphire as the sunlight kissed it. You were there floating with wings as white as pure snow keeping you aloft in the air. You were garbed in your blue armor, skirt flapping about to reveal tempting flashes of your legs. Your eyes were closed as you concentrated, and light poured out of you. It was dazzling, and I had to turn away lest I be blinded. I flattened myself against the wall, shutting my eyes to the sight. When at last it darkened, only then did I risk opening my eyes. And I saw a woman in place of the battle maiden. You didn’t notice me…you walked right past me where I stood against the wall, as though I was beneath your notice. Perhaps I am…what is one mortal compared to that of the radiance of the Gods?” He shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. “I saw your face clearly as you walked by, and I was struck by your beauty. I had to stifle a gasp, concentrate on some other mundane detail, like the fact you had disguised yourself in the dress of a female student. I knew though I would have remembered a classmate that looked like you!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I must admit that after you were gone, I uttered something absolutely ridiculous, something so predictable in these circumstances. What was that?” He laughed. “What was that indeed…I remember standing against the wall, too stunned to move. Later on I would curse myself for that reaction, hate myself for losing the opportunity to follow you. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was love struck. It was only when your beautiful face, coming unbidden to me as I tried to study, did I realize just how badly. I had pain in my heart when I thought of you, how it throbbed in protest when I thought that you could never be mine. It wasn’t long before thoughts of you consumed me. At first I wanted to hate you…” He looked at her, ashamed for that thought.

“Hate me?!” Lenneth said in surprise.

“Yes hate…For you took me away from my studies, my ambitions, all because of a smile on your face.” He held out his hand to her, but did not touch her, instead allowing his hand to hover before her face as though she was a delicate statue he dare not touch. “I thought I had no use for love. I thought it was something that happened to others, foolish impulses that drived them to come together to procreate. Of course I noticed women, but it was with clinical eyes that I viewed them. Much akin to appreciating the beauty of a rose, looking but being untouched by desires.” He sighed, dropping his hand away from Lenneth.

“Fortunately I had the philosopher’s stone…I channeled my desires into it, and it gave me what I wanted. I had to decipher it…it isn’t like a book that you can open to a random page. It’s in code, but the knowledge to be garnered for one diligent enough to decipher it…” He let out a moan that was near lust filled. “Oh ho ho…It’s worth it. It gave up your secrets to me, told me how you were virtually a prisoner of Odin’s, forced to sleep until he had need of you. I thought that a waste of your talents.”

“I…knowing what I know now of Lord Odin, I can’t exactly disagree with you on that.” Lenneth frowned, recalling how Odin had used Freya to seal up her memories. And all to better ensure they would have an obedient valkyrie on their hands.

“I’m glad to know we can agree on something.” Lezard smiled at that. “Most of the rest you know. At some point the desire to free you from Odin melded into the desire to claim you as my own…the Philosopher stone’s responding to my wishes, telling me of a way to make a divine being mortal.”

“I wish you had never found that accursed stone!” Lenneth cried out angrily, a stab of pain in her heart over her lost Godhood.

“You feel that way now, but perhaps in time…” Lezard began, but she cut him off. “I won’t change my mind. Not about this, and not about you!” She sniffled, close to tears.

Lezard stood up, moving away from the bed. Her tears made him feel helpless, inadequate. He was unused to dealing with crying women. “I’m sorry…” he said at last. “But this is the way things are. It’s best you get used to it.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————–

Smoothing down her short green skirt, Freya sat back comfortably in her chair, watching Hrist pace back and forth before her. The black clad Valkyrie practically vibrated with impatience, eager to get on with the proceedings. Hrist had to fight back the desire to give a tongue lashing to the stragglers just arriving through the wall length double doors, choosing instead to grace them with an angry glare that had them running towards their seats.

Twelve thrones sat in a semi circle, each already occupied by a high level Aesir. They were the council of the Gods, and in the absence of the ruler, all decisions went through them. Each throne was made of a different stone, carved from solid pieces of rubies, sapphire, gold, to name a few. The Lord Creator’s throne was carved from diamonds, a fitting material for one known as the shining all mother. Truly the throne gleamed, the sunlight pouring in from the domed ceiling, hitting it in a dazzling display of blinding brilliance that only another God could gaze directly upon without going blind. The throne was empty now, a pointed reminder of the missing ruler.

The lesser Gods had to settle for sitting on much more ordinary seats, einherjar having brought in extra chairs for this hastily called together meeting. A few remained now, doting servants that fetched food and wine, even cushions for the throng of gathered Aesir. The einherjar were the ones most impressed by this room, this giant cavern of high sides, and distant walls, with it’s bejeweled treasures, and important visitors. It was called Glasheim, the hall where the Gods gathered. It was large, it’s immense size owing to the fact it had been carved into the side of a mountain. Both Gods and Goddesses now crowded into the room, their numbers nearing the forties, even with the recent deaths of so many at Ragnarok.

Freya’s eyes traveled over the crowd, noting with surprise that even some minor deities had shown up for the meeting. It seemed everyone wanted to hear for themselves the truth behind Lenneth’s disappearance. When the last of the Aesir had taken their seat, Freya turned to glance at Hrist. She gave a small nod, and the Valkyrie acknowledged this with a slight bow.

“Gentleman! Ladies!” Hrist strode to the center of the room, all eyes on the black haired beauty as she spoke. “Let us begin.”

“Hrist, why have you called this meeting?” demanded Thor, the God of Thunder. He was a tall, muscled man, with blond hair and blue eyes, his features grizzled with a neatly trimmed beard.

“I think a better question would be, on whose authority does she bade us gather.” It was a Goddess in dark brown robes who spoke up next, relaxed in her chair as she gazed with scorn at the battle maiden. “Do you dare to presume to give US orders?”

“Calm yourself, Erda.” Freya spoke up sharply to the Goddess of the Earth. “I would have us listen to what she has to say.” She glared at the other ten on their thrones, daring them to challenge her. With a sour look on her face, Erda waved her hand lazily in the direction of Hrist. “Very well, continue.”

“I think we’re all aware of what has happened.” Hrist spoke solemnly, her voice echoing in the cavern. “The creator is…indisposed of…”

“You mean missing.” clarified Eir, a Goddess with platinum blonde hair, who was clad in sky blue robes.

Erda laughed. “Oh this is rich! The little Goddess is missing…Freya lost the All Mother.”

“Erda!” gasped Freya outraged by the insult.

“It’s true, isn’t? You are the right hand of the creator. You who are supposed to see all, know all when it comes to the creator and her secrets.” Erda smirked. “You’re not having a very successful track record of keeping the creator around, are you? First Odin, now Lenneth? It’s a wonder if you’re even fit for the job.”

“That’s enough.” Tyr said forcefully. His stern, scarred face glowered at Erda.

“But my Lord…” She playfully fluttered her eyelashes at the War God. “I am merely wondering out loud if Freya should stick to the fertility business, and leave her position to someone more…suited to helping the creator rule.”

“We’re not hear to discuss that.” Hrist quickly interjected before Freya could hiss out an insult, inwardly wincing. This was spiraling out of control fast, the Earth Goddess’ sharp tongue derailing the proceedings. How long would it be before she or one of the other Gods spoke of replacing Lenneth? She had to get them back to the point of the meeting.

“I would like to hear what Hrist has to say.” Thor said, having no patience for squabbling women.

“I would hear from her as well.” Eir smiled sweetly at the Valkyrie.

“Thank you Eir, Thor. As always, cooler heads have prevailed.” It was a subtle, pointed jab that went unchallenged. “There has been an investigation into the All Mother’s disappearance. We have found some troubling evidence.”

“Do we know who did it?” asked Vidar, the God of silence and revenge. He smiled, a cold cruel lifting of the lips, eager to mete out revenge on those who would strike against the Aesir.

“…Yes…” Hrist hesitated before speaking, not liking to outright lie to her fellow Gods. “The signs clearly point to one individual.”

“Who?” demanded the Gods as one being. The chant was picked up by all in the room, cries of, “Yes, tell us!” and “Tell us who!” roaring around Hrist. “Who dared strike against the All Mother?!”

She let them work themselves up into a fury, anticipation building upon on her next word. With a wave from Freya, they all fell silent, eagerly looking to Hrist for their answer. “Brahms.”

It was quiet for all of three seconds before the room erupted into chatter, conversations flying fast and furious as doubts and uncertainties were voiced. “Brahms.” growled Vidar, slamming a fist on his silver throne. “Stinking undead! We should have wiped them out, long ago!”

“We have our chance to strike now.” Hrist said, shouting to be heard over the noise. “If we raise our armies…”

“And then what?!” demanded Erda. “Would we really risk ourselves to wage war directly on Brahms?”

“How can we not?” asked Eir. “It is our ruler he has taken.”

“Hmph…” Erda crossed her arms over her chest. “Your ruler perhaps…”

Thor gasped. “You would deny the creator?!”

“I do no such thing..” She hastened to assure him. “I always accepted Odin as my Lord…Lenneth however…” She gave a graceful shrug of her shoulders. “A mere sixth level Goddess is not fit to rule…”

“Sixth level no more.” Freya interrupted. “She had evolved and taken in the power of creation.”

“Hmph. Maybe so. But…” a sly smile was on Erda’s face. “If the little Goddess could do it, what’s not to say one of us could not attain the power as well…”

“Careful Erda.” Hrist hissed, glaring daggers at the Earth Goddess. “Those are treacherous words you speak.”

“Yes…” Vidar agreed, stroking his chin as he eyed her speculatively. “One might even think you had something to do with the All Mother’s disappearance.”

Erda let out an outraged gasp. “Lord Vidar! I may be many things, an opportunist at most, but I would never willing lift a hand against another God, or Goddess, in times of peace. You wound me with your suspicious glances!”

“I think it would be best if you keep your thoughts to yourself, Erda.” rumbled Thor, his voice carrying the echo of thunder in it. “Just to be on the safe side.”

“Of course.” She bowed her head in acknowledgment, hiding her scowl.

“What is this evidence you spoke of Hrist?” Thor asked, a hand absentmindedly stroking his war hammer Mjolnir. “I would have us be sure it was him before we ran off to war.”

“War is good.” Tyr spoke up, eyes glittering with enthusiasm. “War promotes strong mind and body.”

“Yes, you would think that, wouldn’t you…” Eir said, thinking of all the sick and dying she had to tend to in times of war.

“It’s good for the einherjar.” He argued. “It gives them something to do, something to look forward to.”

“Right…like dying…”

Freya clapped her hands together, the loud slap drawing attention to her. “We can debate the merits of war and peace some other time. Eir, forgive me but this is going to happen…”

Eir sighed sadly, knowing she would be outvoted on the matter. “Fine…I will have my priestesses ready to see to the wounded.”

“Thank you.” Freya gave her a soft smile, knowing the kindhearted Goddess of Healing hated to see anyone hurt.

“The evidence, Hrist?” Thor reminded the valkyrie.

“Soul transference.” Hrist replied, ignoring the gasps of dismay around her. “It was much like when Silmeria was taken.”

“Of course.” Erda shook her head. “This isn’t about Lenneth at all. You’re still stuck on what happened to your baby sister.”

“I was there!” Freya leaped to her feet, a hand touching Hrist’s shoulder. The black haired Goddess was tense under her palm, muscles coiled and waiting to strike. She seemed to calm under Freya’s touch, holding herself still, her face stony and angry. “I saw the scorched earth. It was blackened to ash, the untouchable land of Yggdrasil marked with death.”

“I…I remember seeing something similar when Silmeria was taken away by Brahms.” The boy god Ull stood up from his seat among the lesser deities. He spoke hesitantly, not used to addressing those of such prestige and power. He had long had a crush on the youngest valkyrie, and had been heartbroken to discover her kidnapped by the Vampire Lord. “In the ruins of Dipan, his mark on the land still remains. Even though the castle has long since crumbled to dust around it.” His fists clenched at his sides. How he hated being powerless to save Silmeria. “It a mark that is unmistakable that of the undead. You cannot mistake it for anything else.”

“Should we have Ull inspect the land?” asked Freya. “Would that appease you Erda?”

“It might.” She shrugged. “Of course…how accurate is the boy’s word? A lover and a sister, both their judgments can be clouded.”

Ull blushed as Hrist slammed her fist against a podium. “This is a waste of time!” She shouted. “While you persist in delaying matters, Lenneth is in danger!” With a snarl, she walked away, turning her back on the thrones. “If you won’t aid me, I’ll go confront Brahms on my own.”

“Hrist!” Freya said sharply, then turned to glare at the sound of Erda’s laughter. “Didn’t Thor bade you be silent!?”

“To think Hrist would confront Brahms again!” Erda’s shoulders shook as she laughed, unrepressed and full of vicious joy. “After all, the last time ended oh so well.”

“Silence!” Freya shouted, but it was too late. With a fierce growl, Hrist turned, her sword already in hand. She flung out her arm, the blade releasing from her grip to torpedo towards the Earth Goddess. With a clink, it embedded itself into the pearl of her throne, the Goddess letting out a strangled gasping sound. Silence fell on the hall as they all stared, seeing the sword having gone straight through the Earth Goddess’ windpipe.

“Do not speak to me of my failures.” Hrist hissed, an evil smile on her face. She locked eyes with Erda, noting with pleasure the woman’s wide eyes, and pale face. “Lest you want to see why Odin named me his Executioner of the Gods.”

With a near hysterical scream, Erda wrenched free the sword from her throat. Droplets of blood welling out from the hole in her neck. “Bitch!” She croaked out in a strangled voice, and threw the sword back at the Valkyrie. It fell, landing at Hrist’s feet, metal blade clattering on the floor. Eir hurried to Erda’s side, but with an impertinent shriek, she shrugged her off, letting her own magic heal her injured throat. “You’ll pay for that…” She promised, her hands caressing the skin of her neck. “I give you my solemn word on that.”

“Come at me then!” Hrist laughed. “I can fit in your death before or after dealing with Brahms, whichever you like.”

“No one is going to kill anyone…not today!” Freya spoke up, moving to position herself so that she stood between the two angry Goddesses. “If anyone can’t behave civilly here, I’ll have you escorted out. That includes you Hrist.”

“Hmph.” Hrist knelt down, keeping her eyes on the Earth Goddess. She picked up her sword, and calmly began wiping it down with a handkerchief. She was much more suited for battle than for talks and negotiation. In fact the Goddess preferred it that way.

“We will have a compromise.” Freya continued. “There is no time to lose. Hrist, Tyr, and the others will begin prepping the einherjar for war. Thor? You and I will accompany Ull to the blast site. He will tell us if it matches Brahms’ previous attack.”

“Yes my lady!” Ull said, eager to be of use.

“Very well then, I have no objections to that.” Thor agreed.

On his ruby red throne, Tyr smiled. It looked like he’d have the war he had been yearning for these past few months.