COF 22

 The sword did not waver, even for an instant, it’s tip pressed against his throat. The metal grazed against his Adam’s apple, it’s point ready to cut into him should he try to speak. Lezard let out an annoyed hiss, his narrowed eyes furious as he glared at the elf, recognizing her as Bloodwyn, leader of the elves. She was unmistakable as anyone else, her peppermint green colored hair making her stand out among the darker shades gathered here, as did the silver circlet across her forehead which marked her royal status. He had encountered her several times in the past, learning her name from the puppets—the elves he stole from the Forest. It was the first time she had gotten the better of him, and he scowled, realizing his desire for Lenneth had made him careless.

Lenneth! His eyes shifted to the side, taking her in. She was standing next to Bloodwyn, seemingly ignored by the elves. They were too focused in on Lezard, not bothering to note that Lenneth lacked the tell tale green in her hair, that she was as human as he. Almost human he corrected himself, knowing her body was that of a half elf. But it wouldn’t be apparent to those who did not have a hand in the creation of her new body.

Lezard’s thoughts were moving lightning fast, processing them in an instant. He had already noted the number of elves that surrounded them, eight in all, their bows strung across their backs, except for the two that trained arrows on him. The other six had chosen to draw out their blades, five of them standing a distance back from Bloodwyn, swords hanging loosely by their sides, ready to spring into action should they be needed.

Lezard took in a deep breath, and Bloodwyn’s arm tensed, fearing he was about to cast a spell. He winced as her sword tip dug into his throat, drawing blood, that trickled down the side of his neck. He kept his lips sealed shut, and though she did not relax, Bloodwyn did stop from impaling him on her blade. She let out nervous laughter, too wary of his tricks and magic to sound truly triumphant in her victory over him. “So you are just a man after all.” She told him. “Brought down by lust.”

Lezard could only stare back at her, his eyes dark with the promise of her death should he get the chance to act. “If you would just listen to me…” It was Lenneth who spoke, trying to get the amazon’s attention.

“You’ll get your chance to speak.” The elf assured her, a grim smile on her face. “At his trial.”

“Trial?!” Lenneth looked at Lezard, a frown on her face. He knew she was wondering just what his crimes against these particular elves were, and he hoped this wouldn’t change her feelings towards him.

“Yes, trial. Though I don’t doubt the outcome, one must be held. It is only…fair…” She nodded her head, and then said. “Bring it…” One of the five stepped forward, hands reaching into her pouch. She removed a silver ball attached to a leather thong. It was a gag, meant to silence Lezard’s voice. His glare deepened, and his muscles tensed, the wizard wanting to lash out, to prevent them from sealing away his magic.

“Hold still.” advised Bloodwyn with a smirk. “We wouldn’t want any accidents to occur, now would we?”

Lenneth was silent, clearly thinking on what to do. He didn’t risk looking at Lenneth again, not wanting to draw attention to the Valkyrie. The elf with the gag approached him, almost timidly, and knelt down by his side. He tried to turn his face to the side, and she grabbed at his head, cruelly wrenching his face in place. “Hold still!” She snapped, fingers gripping his brown hair tightly.

“Ngh!” He struggled as much as he dared, refusing to part his lips for her.

“I’m sorry…” came Lenneth’s voice, leaving him to think she was abandoning him. “But I really don’t have time for this.” He heard Bloodywyn let out an outraged scream, as Lenneth kicked out the sword in her hands. The threat at his neck was gone, though arrows were still trained on him. But the elf that sought to gag him was partly in the way, ready to be made into a suitable shield. Lezard was on the move, his hands reaching up to grab at the amazon, pulling her down on top of him. She let out a startled yelp, even as the strings of the bows twang, arrows flying free. One embedded itself in the sand next to his head, just missing nicking his cheek. The elf a top him screamed again, this time in pain, as her tender flesh was pierced by the second arrow.

Even as this was going on, Bloodywyn was turning to scream at Lenneth. “What are you doing?!” She came up short, seeing her clearly for the first time. “The Valkyrie?! No…You…you can’t be her…” She muttered, seeing the silver blue hair of her attacker, noting the resemblance she bore to the Valkyrie who had visited their village not long ago. “She wouldn’t ally herself with a defiler of souls!”

Lenneth flushed angrily, knowing that once that would have been true. But much had changed since then. With a shrug of her shoulders, she brought her hands up, warily watching the amazon. Lenneth knew elves had strength that was vastly superior to that of humans, and she wondered if this engineered body of hers would be able to take Bloodwyn on in unarmed combat.

“Get them!” The leader commanded, throwing her arm down. She lunged forward at Lenneth, as with a fierce cry, the remaining four elves came rushing forward, their blades swinging wildly.

“Lightning Bolt!” It felt good to use his magic, contradicting though that may be to the pain he felt upon releasing the electric energy from his finger tips. The metal of the elves’ chain mail made a good conduit for the lightning, and the four screamed in unison. The white hot lightning not only stopped them in their tracks, but sent them flying backwards, sand kicked up in tiny explosions at their feet.

The elf atop him was still alive, injured but able to put up a fight. She clawed at his face, even as he tightened an arm around her waist, holding her to him. With a growl, he punched her squarely in the face, knocking her out. He started to rise to his knees, holding her unconscious form before him. He flung out his other arm, hand aimed at one of the archers. “Prismatic missile!”

The archer screamed, and jumped to the side, avoiding the spell. Lezard could hear groaning, the swordswomen were getting to their feet, shaken from his attack but still ready to fight. “Lenneth was right.” He realized. “We really don’t have time for this.” It was time to pull out the big guns, the great spells. “Surely thou can feel it! Thy days are numbered…” The air around the elves started gleaming, trapped pockets of air turning into tangible solids, frozen crystals with gleaming edges. “Thy death is at hand!”

“Don’t hurt them!” shrieked Lenneth, even as she grappled with Bloodwyn. The two women were on the ground, rolling about in the sand, kicking and punching at each other.

“Are you mad?” Lezard demanded, her request having thrown him off the spell. “They’re trying to kill us!” An arrow landed just before his foot. The archer was not willing to shoot her own comrade. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the second archer trying to inch around him, to get an open shot at his back. “Fire lance!” The spell came off his lips casually enough, the three spear shaped fireballs torpedoing towards the archer, setting her hair and clothing on fire. She shrieked, dropping the wooden bow, and went running towards the open sea, intent on dousing the flames.

“But…” Lenneth winced as Bloodwyn’s fist found itself buried in her stomach. “Don’t kill them at least…” She coughed out weakly. She made a fist, and smacked it into the elf’s cheek. A hard blow, that rocked her head to the side, possibly jarring a tooth loose.

“I don’t know why you show such concern for us…human…” sneered Bloodwyn, a mouthful of blood being spit in Lenneth’s face. “But such weakness is wasted on the battlefield!”

Lenneth let out a cry, the blood in her eyes obscuring her vision. She made a blind grab at Bloodwyn’s hands, intending to keep the elf from pummeling her mercilessly, waiting for her vision to clear. She heard Lezard shout out, “Sap Power!” And felt Bloodwyn’s body sag atop of hers, her energy drained.

“Urgh!” Lenneth exclaimed in disgust, pushing the limp woman off of her. She raised her arm up to her eyes, brushing away the blood. She blinked rapidly, eyesight restored and saw Lezard with his living shield, aiming another spell at the swordswomen. “Lightning Bolt!” He increased the voltage to his spell, this time the energy was enough to not just stun them, but rend them unconscious.

Lenneth slowly rose to her feet, spotting Bloodwyn’s sword on the ground. She grabbed it, feeling a million times better with a weapon in her hand. There was still one archer left, her weapon trained on Lezard. Lenneth crept towards the elf, keeping a wary eye on her. At this close a range, she would not be able to dodge an arrow. Lezard was smirking, taunting the elf with his magic. He had cast aside his body shield, and now kept throwing fire spell after fire spell at the archer, evaporating her arrows before they could touch him. Their wood turning to ash, the silver of their heads melting down to molten liquid. The elf knew he was merely toying with her, but still she bravely fought on, depleting her stock of arrows as she tried to get him in the heart.

It kept her distracted, and allowed Lenneth time to sneak around behind her. She raised her sword, using the handle to pound into the back of the archer’s head. Her eyes rolled up, and she crumpled to the ground with a thud. “Forgive me.” Lenneth said with true regret, looking down sadly at the elf. She suddenly let out a gasp, stumbling forward. Lezard’s eyes widened, seeing an arrow sticking out of the Valkyrie’s back, protruding from her left shoulder. He whipped his head around in the direction it came from, and spotted the burnt archer by the shore. He let out an enraged cry, and screamed out, “Explosion!”

The results weren’t pretty…the elf’s body being torn apart, split into many pieces from the inside out. Lenneth gasped at the savagery of the spell, having to turn away from the gore. “I said not to hurt them!” There was tears in her eyes, not all of it from the pain in her shoulder. Lezard reached her side, and knelt down, stroking her hair in an attempt to comfort her. “She lost any right to live, the moment she let loose her arrow at you…” His eyes went to the arrow, sticking out of his beloved’s body. He went to touch it, and she tensed up.

“How bad is it?” Lenneth wanted to know.

“You’ll live…” He told her. Provided you don’t get an infection. Lezard wrapped his fist around the wooden shaft. “This will hurt…” He told her, and she nodded. “I know.” He held out his other hand to her, and she took it gratefully. He began pulling on the arrow, and Lenneth let out a hiss of pain, digging her nails into his skin. Slowly, inch by inch the arrow moved, Lenneth doing her best not to cry out, though sweat and tears poured down her face. The hand she held had deep furrows in it from her nails, blood welling out of the cuts. With a wince, Lezard gave one last wrench on the shaft, and it’s head came free of her skin, the silver head bloody and dripping wet. Lezard angrily tossed it onto the ground.

“I really wish we still had that first aid kit.” Lenneth gasped out, knowing it had been lost when they fell into the water.

“This spell will have to suffice for now.” Lezard told her. “Heal!” He managed to hold back the cough that wanted to come out, not wishing her to worry about him. He knew he had already used too much magic today, the good that the prime elixir had done, being washed away by all the spells he had cast. He tugged the ripped material of her vest aside, knowing the arrow would have gone in much deeper if not for the leather she wore. His fingers grazed the hole in her blouse, touching the injured skin. The healing spell had knitted it together, though it still looked raw and red.

“How’s your shoulder?” He asked, watching as Lenneth gave an experimental move of her arm. She rotated the shoulder, wincing. “It’s functional.”

“Good…” He stood, holding out his hand. Lenneth took it, and with his help rose to her feet. “We can’t delay here any longer…unless…” She shivered at the dark look in his eyes. “You’ll allow me to finish off these…puppets before we leave.”

“Lezard no!” She quickly protested. “They are living beings…they have souls…you can’t just kill them!”

“As you wish my dear…” He said sourly. “Though I fear they will soon catch up with us otherwise.”

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take.” Lenneth said, and gave a tug on his hand. “Now let’s go.” She headed towards the forest, pulling him along behind her. Lezard cast one last doubtful glance behind him, hearing Bloodwyn let out a moan. The elf was slowly coming to, her body heavy with exhaustion, limbs feeling weighted down. She struggled to open her eyes, feeling to weak to sit up just yet. She stared at the night sky, and let out a bitter laugh. She couldn’t believe they had lost—again! Not when victory had been so close. She turned her head to the side, catching sight of her comrades, laying still in the grass. She could make out the rise and fall of their chest, signaling they were still alive. That was certainly surprising. The sorcerer had never hesitated before to kill those who got in his way. She wondered what had changed. No matter. She’d make him pay for leaving her alive…

With a groan she pushed up on her elbows, surveying the beach. Her green eyes passed over the charred remains of what looked to be an arm. Bloodwyn didn’t allow herself time to grieve a fallen compatriot, more would fall if the humans were not stopped, and fast. Her hand inched it’s way into the pouch by her side, removing a vial of green liquid. It was a foul tasting elixir, but upon consuming it, some of her strength was restored, enough so that she could stand and tend to her warriors. Bloodwyn half walked, half stumbled over to the group of four, seeing them slumped together, a tangle of arms and legs as they lay resting in the sand.

She closed her eyes, falling to her knees. The air picked up, the wind pulling at her hair, causing it to swirl around her, a floating cloud of light green. “Heal!” She called out, focusing her energy on the elves. A yellow light seemed to wash over them, making their skin shine with healthiness, as the spell settled deep inside their bodies. Murmurs and moans emitted from their lips, the women being slow to wake up. “Get up!” commanded Bloodwyn, her voice angry, but her eyes let a hint of the relief she was feeling, show.

Bloodwyn rose, and went to check on the remaining archer. Her injuries were of the non magical kind, a mild concussion from the blow to her head. Nearby lay the elf the sorcerer had used as a shield. Her body sporting a few arrows, but luckily none had hit any fatal parts of her anatomy. “You, stay with them.” She ordered the warrior with hair as dark as the leaves of the forest’s trees. “Tend to their injuries. The rest of you follow me. Anwyn, come…”

Anwyn stepped forward, her hair a vibrant shade of green. “Yes milady.” She was known as the best tracker the elves had, if anyone could find their quarry it was her. She headed towards the forest, bending down on one knee to touch the ground…no foot prints were there to show where the humans had gone, but there were other signs. Broken twigs, and tossed aside rocks, even scuffed up dirt. She moved forward, an odd crab walk that kept her squatted down, eyes watching for further signs. “This way…” She said, touching a withered flower, finding blood on it’s petals. “They’re moving East.”

“Let’s go then.” Bloodwyn said, fumbling at her pouch. She pulled out a horn, bringing it’s curved end to her lips. She pursed them and blew, a loud bellow emanating from the tiny horn. It was a signal to the other hunting parties, a sign that their quarry had escaped and was on the move. Within minutes, several other horns sounded, answering cries that let them know the humans were still out there, free but hunted.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The training hall, one of many in Valhalla, was packed with einherjar. They were lined up, armor polished to the point of gleaming, swords sharpened and handled with care. Hrist in her smoky black armor, patrolled up and down the rows, looking here and there, offering advice and the rarely awarded praise to the gathered swordsmen. “You’ve got to use more force in your swing.” She told a young looking lad. “You won’t be able to decapitate a vampire with a weak arm like that!” She watched as the youth tried again, swinging his arm faster as he attacked the straw filled dummy before him.

“Better.” Hrist acknowledged, and resumed her trek down the aisle of warriors. She was doing her best to get them ready for the upcoming war, not wanting them to needlessly throw their lives away on the battlefield. Still she knew, even with her expert training, there would be causalities. They were unavoidable, many would most likely die, though with her advice the numbers would be lessened.

“Don’t use your sword arm to block!” She snapped at a blonde haired woman. “You’ll only end up numb and unable to attack. If you must defend yourself, let the blade hit the gauntlet of your other arm, then follow up with a thrust.” Hrist shook her head, braid bouncing. “No no no! Don’t leave yourself open when you go in to strike!” She hissed at a red bearded man. “You’ve got your arm up, and your side exposed, just begging for someone to slip their weapon in through the slats of your armor!”

“What a motley bunch you have here.” A commotion came from the gathered warriors, the einherjar stopping what they were doing to peer at the man who had spoken. “Lord Odin…” Hrist said with some surprise, before managing to regain her composure. The einherjar were amazed to see the Elder God up close and personal, and one by one they fell to their knees, bowing their head in worshipful reverence.

“Please…” Odin held up his hands, a thin smile on his face. “No need to stop on my account. Continue…” The einherjar looked to Hrist, feeling nervous before their leader. She stifled a sigh, and barked out an order. “Up on your feet, I want you practicing your killing blows on the double!” She marched down the aisle, glaring at those who were too slow to move.

“Hrist…?” Odin said, watching with amusement as the einherjar practiced stabbing through the air, some of the more experience warriors doing fancy twirls with their blades, spinning them round like a baton, expertly avoiding slicing off their own hands. “A moment of your time please. I would speak with you.”

“At once, Lord Odin.” She nodded, and shot one more look at her class. “You there.” Hrist pointed at her prized pupil Belenus. “Take over for me.”

“Yes Lady Valkryie.” He bowed his head in acknowledgment, pride in his eyes at being chosen to lead the class. He left his place in the front off the class, and begin wandering up and down the aisles, trying to correct any weaknesses he saw.

Hrist walked towards Odin, the gray haired God leading her to the back of the room. There they could converse quietly, and keep an eye on the class at the same time.

“They’re not half bad.” Odin commented to her.

“But not half good either.” She replied, making the God laugh. “Ah Hrist…still as hard as ever on the mortals I see.”

“Excellence demands nothing less.” Hrist said.

“Ah…good, good…” He stroked his chin. “I just came to tell you…we move on Brahms in the morrow.”

“So soon?” Hrist arched an eyebrow in surprise. “But my Lord…we are not ready…!” Odin flashed her a suspicious look, and she hastened to explain. “Sir, you saw for yourself my warriors are not at their best. They will be slaughtered on the field if they go out like this!”

“It doesn’t really matter if the einherjar die. They are mortals. That’s what they do!” Odin laughed loudly, drawing a few glances his way. “As long as they can open a path for you to reach Brahms, nothing else matters. Unless…” It was a crafty, calculating look he gave her. “You’re the one that’s not ready. Perhaps…you are scared to face Brahms?”

Hrist bristled at this. “I most certainly am not! I thirst for vengeance…my blade will not rest until it has tasted blood…!” She failed to mention whose blood she was currently lusting after.

“Good…it shall have it…tomorrow…”

Hrist bit back a but, seeing Odin determined about this. “Yes sire.” Odin made a move to leave, then suddenly paused. “By the way, Hrist? You wouldn’t happen to know where Freya is, would you?”

“Freya?” She feigned ignorance. “No my Lord, I have not seen her since that day in your throne room.”

“Ah…”

“Is she…missing?” Hrist asked, knowing that was very much the case.

“I merely misplaced her is all.” His lips quirked up into a smile, finding his words full of humor. “Do your best with these mortals Hrist.” He smirked, thinking he had just the words to motivate the Valkyrie. “If you fail tomorrow, you will not get another chance at Brahms.”

“I understand Lord Odin.” Hrist said, fists clenched. She had to fight back to keep a scowl from crossing her face. Bells rang out, as Odin teleported from the room, and only then did Hrist give in to her emotions. A snarl on her face, she turned to the class, intending to work them harder than ever before.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Lenneth hated to admit it, but they were lost. They had been wandering the forest rather aimlessly, with little to no light to see by. They couldn’t even risk a fire spell, for the light would surely alert their pursuers to their location. Already they had had one close call too many, coming across yet another one of the hunting parties, and having to fight their way free again.

Using her sword like a machete, Lenneth cut away branches that hung down in the way, clearing a path forward. Grim amusement was on her face as she watched Lezard clumsily handle a blade he had stolen from one of the elves. “How much longer until morning?” asked Lenneth.

“Hours still…” Lezard said, not sparing a glance up at the position of the moon. He wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway, the canopy of the forest was simply too dense, thick with branches and leaves.

“Hmm…” She pushed aside a cobweb with her blade, ducking under a low hanging branch. Lezard mimicked her movements, following close behind. “I think we’ll have to wait until morning to continue…” Lenneth said. “I can’t make head nor tails of where we are…we’ll never find the heart of the forest in this darkness!”

“Well we can’t exactly stop and rest, now can we…” Lezard said sourly. “Not with those harpies on our tail!”

“We’ll have to keep moving then…” sighed Lenneth.

“There they are!” cried a voice.

“Not again!” groaned Lezard. He was getting tired of the constant need for his magic, having been discretely coughing into his handkerchief on and off for the past hour. The only good thing about the darkness was that it prevented Lenneth from seeing the blood that came up with his cough.

“Run!” Lenneth advised, grabbing his hand.

“Lenneth, I don’t think that’s a good idea…” He hissed out, running to keep up with her. She didn’t answer, fleeing blindly, branches and plants whipping at their clothing, trying to trip them up and make them fall. Female shouts were heard in the distance, growing closer, the light of torches moving nearer. The elves were operating under no such disadvantage, not worrying about the element of surprise.

Minutes passed as they ran, and Lezard was startled when Lenneth’s hand suddenly pulled out of his grip. “Lenneth?!” He hissed out in a loud whisper, moving frantically forward. He felt the ground, wet and muddy under his feet, give way, and down he went, tumbling down a slick slope of dirt. He didn’t even have a chance to let out a surprised yell, grunting as his body bounced off the pebbles, and landed atop of Lenneth’s prone form.

“Well that answers that question…” He moaned, and Lenneth groaned in response, trying to push him off of her.

“Where did they go?!” A woman snarled out.

“I don’t know…they were just here…” came the answering reply.

“Find them!”

Lenneth and Lezard were quiet, the Valkyrie holding her breath, willing herself to be still as the rustle came from up above. Peering out from underneath Lezard’s body, she could see the glow of a torch, hear footsteps crunch to a stop just before the slope began. No excited calls came, allowing Lenneth to breathe slightly easier as the elven searcher moved away.

She heard Lezard let out a sigh, burying his face in the back of her hair. “We’ll lay here a few more minutes, just in case…” He whispered into her ear, placing his hands on either side of her. She nodded, noting how he pushed up on his arms, using them as leverage to keep his weight off her back.

“Lezard…” Her tone was troubled.

“What is it Lenneth?”

“I think my shoulder is bleeding again..” She winced, though she knew he could not see it. “I think I re-injured it on the way down…”

“Hmm…” She felt him touching her back, feeling the slick wetness of her vest. “Damn it…I can’t tell for sure…it might be blood…then again it might just be mud.”

“Oh…” She was quiet a moment, and then another question came. “Are you okay, Lezard?”

“I’m fine.” He was quick to assure her.

“It’s just that you’ve been coughing an awful lot…” continued Lenneth.

“Just a small setback from one too many magic spells.” He said, figuring half a truth was better than a full out lie. Lezard was relieved she didn’t follow up with a smug “I told you so.”

“Do you think it’s safe?” Lenneth asked instead. “Dunno…” He replied, cocking his head to the side. He concentrated, but all he could hear was the buzzing of insects, and the occasional hooting of an owl. “We might as well risk it…” Lezard said at last, pushing up to his knees. Lenneth rolled onto her back, gazing upwards, squinting in the darkness. Slowly she sat up, feeling around with her hand for one of the swords. She felt the cool metal under her hand, and grasped it to her. Lezard was already standing up, brushing dirt off his cloak, though there was far too much to get completely cleaned.

“Well we can’t go back up…” Lenneth said, rising to her feet. “It’s too wet…” Her free hand was touching the slope, feeling the dirt crumble under her fingers. “We’ll never get a good handhold on the soil.”

“If we can’t go back, we go forward.” He said, and she nodded, turning to head off into the bush.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Upon returning to his throne room, Odin was unsurprised to find Hel waiting for him. “We really shouldn’t keep meeting like this…” He told her, a smile on his face showing he was not as perturbed as his words made him sound. The Hel Goddess did not return his smile, her face was angry, her eyes filling with unshed tears. “What is the matter Hel?” Odin shifted, uncomfortably with her wet eyes.

“My little Garm is dead!” She said, her full lips jutting out in a sad little pout.

“So that means Lenneth and Lezard still live…” Odin frowned, displeased with the news. “It’s a good thing I’ve pushed up the date for the attack on Brahms…”

“Damn it all, didn’t you hear me?” Hel hissed, hands on her hips. “Garm is dead! One of those…humans killed my beloved pet!”

“Oh yes…I am so sorry for your loss.” Odin said, without regret in his voice. He was shocked when Hel’s hand slapped across his face. “Bastard!’ She cried, eyes glaring into his. “You don’t even care!”

“Calm yourself Hel!” He ordered, grabbing her wrists. He gave her a little shake, watching as she struggled to get free. “What is the loss of one pet, when a kingdom is at stake?” He smiled, thinking to mollify her with promises of a place up in Asgard. Hel continued to pout, not saying anything in response. “We have much still to do…and so little time to do it in.”

“And whose fault is that?!” demanded Hel, getting her hands free. She fingerered her wrists, seeing a light bruise forming there.

“It’s theirs…Lenneth and Lezard, for not rolling over and dying for us.” Odin replied. “Between them and the intruders who broke the water mirror, I’ve had to push up all my plans…”

“Our plans.” She corrected him, giving him a crafty look. “Have you located Freya?” He was silent, a displeased frown on his face. “I’ll take that as a no.” Hel shook her head, making a tsking sound. “Such a pity…to lose one of your most trusted minions…”

“I know what you’re hinting at, but I refuse to believe Freya would betray me.” Odin said, but his voice sounded doubtful even to himself. “She’s merely…”

“Merely what?!” interrupted Hel. “How will you justify her disappearance? And right when the water mirror has been damaged! Ha!” She let out a shrill bark of laughter, thinking Odin a fool. “I think the little dear was spying on you…oh…I’m sure she didn’t mean to uncover your plans…” She soothed falsely. “Perhaps she was just trying to find out who you were with during your recovery. Freya is a jealous mistress after all.” Hel had a coy look in her eyes. “Of course…you’ve given her reason in the past to doubt your faithfulness, so if anything it’s your own fault she left you…”

“That’s enough!” shouted Odin, stiff lipped.

“Oooh…” Hel cooed, running her fingers across the front of his chest. “Did I hit a nerve? Maybe the loss of Freya is something very much like what I feel for the death of my little Garm.”

“Do not speak of her and your mutt in the same sentence again.” issued Odin in warning. Hel pouted, but her eyes were dancing with laughter, amused at his anger. “Very well. What shall we speak of?”

“I’d rather let actions speak for me…” Odin said, wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulled her to him, bending down to close the distance between their lips. “Hmm…” Hel smiled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Do we really have time for this?”

“No…yes…maybe…” He laughed against her mouth, kissing down to the side of her neck. Hel wound her fingers into his hair, dancing them upwards to touch the circlet in his hair. She felt a thrill upon touching the silver, knowing that all too soon a similar mark of power would adorn her head as well.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Surprisingly enough, the way they had been forced to travel soon evened out into a path. It was badly in disrepair, with weeds pushing in at all sides, but it was still useable. They soon reached a small pond of water, and from there the packed dirt turned into a cobblestone path. Still Lezard and Lenneth followed it, wary of this sign of civilization, fearing they were nearing the elven village. But they had little choice but to continue.

Onwards they went, and the weeds began to disperse, the land being claimed back from the wild forest, flowers tended to with loving care. A house was spotted in the distance, it’s walls carved of wood, with a thatched roof of yellow straw. It was of medium size, one floor, containing perhaps four rooms. Swatches of material were in the windows, curtains hand sewn, and bright blue in color. A small garden was planted next to the West side of the cottage, vegetables growing in large quantities, plump and ripe.

As they got closer, Lenneth let out an excited sound. “I know this place!” She sheathed her sword, the blade hanging awkwardly in the sash of her belt. “Lenneth wait!” Lezard hissed, as the woman broke into a run, galloping far ahead of him. He let out a shrug, and ran after her, watchful for danger, as Lenneth approach the house. The cobblestones led to the gate of a wooden fence that surrounded the house. Lenneth undid the latch, swinging it open, and rushed towards the building.

She was already knocking on the door when Lezard reached her side, shaking his head ruefully. “I really think caution would be the better path…” Lenneth seemed to ignore him, continuing to bang on the door. “Andais!” She called out loudly, fists pounding against the wood. “Andais are you there?!”

From the window a light came, a dim yellow color, as someone struggled with a minor fire spell. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” came an accented female’s voice, and footsteps stumbled towards the door. The door rattled, the woman laboring with the rusty lock of her door. “Perhaps I should not be seen…” murmured Lezard, backing into the darkness, hoping to hide. But it was too late, the door fell open, the light from the candle the woman held lighting up the doorway.

“Yes, what is it?” She squinted at Lenneth, mistaking her for an elf.

“Andais, it’s me…Lenneth!”

“Lenneth?” The woman frowned, knowing of no elf by that name. Andais stepped closer to Lenneth, holding the candle to her face. It cast it’s light on her skin, the woman peering carefully at the beauty in front of her. “It cannot be…” She breathed out. “You have her eyes…and the hair…” She added, fingering the stray locks that curled around Lenneth’s cheeks. “Lenneth? Lenneth Valkyrie?”

The girl nodded, and watched as Andais’ face paled. “Merciful Minerva!” She staggered, Lenneth’s arms reaching out to catch her. “How can this be possible?” She cried out, her voice far too loud for Lezard’s liking. Her fingers clenched around Lenneth’s shoulders, gripping her in support. “By Odin’s eyes, you’re mortal now!”

“It’s a long story…” Lenneth said wearily. Andais got the hint. “Oh please, do come inside Lady Valkyrie! This is no night to be out in the woods…” She heard the crunch of gravel, and saw the shadowed Lezard moving closer. “Oh…you have a companion? You are welcome to come in as well…” Her voice trailed off as Lezard drew near enough for her to see his face, the candle falling from her hands as Andais let out one wild scream after another.