Sonatorrek: Þrymskviða - 6
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xp_logsWARNING: MATURE SUBJECT MATTER
Paige finds herself conflicted over her friend, and steps in to save him the only way she knows how.
Garrison was lying in a broken heap, his arms so contorted out of shape that they barely looked like human limbs. He was panting shallowly, his eyes closed and his face pale. Even despite his preternatural endurance, he was showing signs of sinking into deep shock from his desperate mad attempt to catch Mjolnir. In the air around him, the storm clouds roiled, in anticipation of something.
The familiar current in the air raised the hairs on her arms as she crossed the gravel path. It was almost a fine dusting of gold, illuminated by the ambient head lights, fitting, as Paige kneeled next to her partner, smoothing back his hair. “Hey there, Moosejaw.”
A well protected sword was clutched in her hand, which she set to unwrapping, eyes flicking around anxiously but always settling on his face. “Seems you got yourself into a bit of mess here.” Paige had grabbed the sword from Angelo without explanation, knowing he would trust her judgment. She had to have a blade; it was the way of things.
There was no intelligible response. Kane was sinking fast from the damage, and she could tell that his physical gifts might not be enough to help him hang on. In the distance, lightning lanced down, and the clouds started to spiral. It was happening.
The first signs were like motes in the sky, catching the odd shaft of sunlight briefly, but for the most part, descending like a silver rain. At the head, an impressively armed woman sat astride a winged horse, which glided down like an eagle following a thermal down to the ground. Her spear was balanced against her hip, and she radiated authority, even if her form was translucent and ephemeral until the hooves touched the earth.
Standing, Paige made small circles with the sword, the last of the bindings falling away in a quiet spiral. She raised her unoccupied hand at the newcomer with a resigned
smile. “Brunnhilde.” Her gaze darted to the steed and her expression broadened a touch. “Hi, Nightshine.”
“Paige, Daughter of Lucinda. It is good to see you, sister.” Brunnhilde sprung from her seat, both her and the horse becoming solid as they touched the earth. “Our duty calls us once more. I would give you the honour of culling this warrior.”
“And you,” Paige answered, her heart having long sunk, but that didn’t make it any less true. Her bare ankle brushed against the sueded twill weave of Garrison’s jeans - she had long kicked off her ridiculous pumps – and she took a breath. “But I’m afraid you’ve wasted a trip.”
Brunnhilde’s expression turned puzzled. “You are a Valkyrie, Paige, daughter of Lucinda. Our purpose is to take the souls of those fallen and take them to their eternal rest. This is our duty. Take the mortal and join us in escorting him to his eternity.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes, unshed, and Paige shook her head. “No. And neither can you have him. I’m sorry.”
“Sister.” Brunnhilde closed with her, and in a moment, Paige was dwarfed by the almost seven foot Valkyrie. “This is the way of our sisterhood. He has fallen and must be accounted for. If you reject us, you ask us to avoid our duty to the All-Father.”
“I know. And I am truly sorry.” Paige glanced at the man, and then back up, shoulders square and eyes fierce. “But you can not have him.”
“Do you understand what you ask, little sister? If you esteem his soul before others, one day, you will be responsible for his replacement.” The deep blue eyes behind her helmet were honestly concerned, like a close friend watching a bad decision. “Consider this.”
“I know.” Her arm, which had be tense, waiting, slacked, and she dropped to Garrison’s side, looking up at the woman who had taken her in, trained her as her own. Fought for her and made her a home when the idea of home was impossible. Paige swallowed, nodded. “I will be responsible.”
“You spurn us for a man, Paige, daughter of Lucinda. We are a sisterhood, and you insult that.” She took her helmet from her head, and her blonde braids cascaded around her. “I do not wish this. Come with us. Bring him and I promise you, I will advocate before the All-Father personally for your man. I will see him in Valhalla, with a drink at one elbow and a wench at the other, for an eternity waiting for the call for the end of the world. Sister, I will do this for you. I beg you, do your duty.” Her last words dropped like stone from a great height; final and unyielding.
“I… choose him. I wish I could say it was selfless, I wish I could-”
Tears made shining tracks down her cheeks, waves as Paige shook her head. She took a breath, and another, calming the shake in her voice. Blue hit blue, the indigo in their eyes matching and causing a spark.
“I choose him.”
“Very well, sister.” Brunnhilde replaced her helmet slowly, reluctantly. “I wish this was otherwise, but sister, this is a soul that you owe to the All-Father. Be careful. Be very careful. This debt might be paid for in a manner dearer than you have any recognition of.”
Not all were willing to abide by this agreement, it seemed, as Amora strode up to the two women, radiating her discontent in a shimmering aura around her. "Do not listen to this mortal, mead-bearer!" she said stridently, cutting the air with a sharp motion of her hand. "Perform the duty you are sworn to carry out - take this man with you and depart this realm."
Paige didn’t hesitate, burying the tip of the Asgardian sword into the Enchantress’ stomach. The god looked at her with wide eyes. Only Asgardian steel could truly harm her, and this young woman somehow possessed such a blade. She caught the blade before it had sunk too deeply, but the shock was enough. Amora was a coward, and the thought of physical or even mortal harm scared her more that her obsession with Thor. With a whispered word, the god blinked out of existence, leaving a scattering of light motes and drops of blood in her place.
“Paige, daughter of Lucinda. You have created a great many debts for yourself tonight.” Brunnhilde vaulted back on her horse. There was sadness in her eyes, but a glimmer of pride as well. Valkyries respected boldness and bravery, and she had shown both. “May we meet again under clearer skies, sister.”
With that, they took to the sky, leaving the fallen behind this once.
Paige finds herself conflicted over her friend, and steps in to save him the only way she knows how.
Garrison was lying in a broken heap, his arms so contorted out of shape that they barely looked like human limbs. He was panting shallowly, his eyes closed and his face pale. Even despite his preternatural endurance, he was showing signs of sinking into deep shock from his desperate mad attempt to catch Mjolnir. In the air around him, the storm clouds roiled, in anticipation of something.
The familiar current in the air raised the hairs on her arms as she crossed the gravel path. It was almost a fine dusting of gold, illuminated by the ambient head lights, fitting, as Paige kneeled next to her partner, smoothing back his hair. “Hey there, Moosejaw.”
A well protected sword was clutched in her hand, which she set to unwrapping, eyes flicking around anxiously but always settling on his face. “Seems you got yourself into a bit of mess here.” Paige had grabbed the sword from Angelo without explanation, knowing he would trust her judgment. She had to have a blade; it was the way of things.
There was no intelligible response. Kane was sinking fast from the damage, and she could tell that his physical gifts might not be enough to help him hang on. In the distance, lightning lanced down, and the clouds started to spiral. It was happening.
The first signs were like motes in the sky, catching the odd shaft of sunlight briefly, but for the most part, descending like a silver rain. At the head, an impressively armed woman sat astride a winged horse, which glided down like an eagle following a thermal down to the ground. Her spear was balanced against her hip, and she radiated authority, even if her form was translucent and ephemeral until the hooves touched the earth.
Standing, Paige made small circles with the sword, the last of the bindings falling away in a quiet spiral. She raised her unoccupied hand at the newcomer with a resigned
smile. “Brunnhilde.” Her gaze darted to the steed and her expression broadened a touch. “Hi, Nightshine.”
“Paige, Daughter of Lucinda. It is good to see you, sister.” Brunnhilde sprung from her seat, both her and the horse becoming solid as they touched the earth. “Our duty calls us once more. I would give you the honour of culling this warrior.”
“And you,” Paige answered, her heart having long sunk, but that didn’t make it any less true. Her bare ankle brushed against the sueded twill weave of Garrison’s jeans - she had long kicked off her ridiculous pumps – and she took a breath. “But I’m afraid you’ve wasted a trip.”
Brunnhilde’s expression turned puzzled. “You are a Valkyrie, Paige, daughter of Lucinda. Our purpose is to take the souls of those fallen and take them to their eternal rest. This is our duty. Take the mortal and join us in escorting him to his eternity.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes, unshed, and Paige shook her head. “No. And neither can you have him. I’m sorry.”
“Sister.” Brunnhilde closed with her, and in a moment, Paige was dwarfed by the almost seven foot Valkyrie. “This is the way of our sisterhood. He has fallen and must be accounted for. If you reject us, you ask us to avoid our duty to the All-Father.”
“I know. And I am truly sorry.” Paige glanced at the man, and then back up, shoulders square and eyes fierce. “But you can not have him.”
“Do you understand what you ask, little sister? If you esteem his soul before others, one day, you will be responsible for his replacement.” The deep blue eyes behind her helmet were honestly concerned, like a close friend watching a bad decision. “Consider this.”
“I know.” Her arm, which had be tense, waiting, slacked, and she dropped to Garrison’s side, looking up at the woman who had taken her in, trained her as her own. Fought for her and made her a home when the idea of home was impossible. Paige swallowed, nodded. “I will be responsible.”
“You spurn us for a man, Paige, daughter of Lucinda. We are a sisterhood, and you insult that.” She took her helmet from her head, and her blonde braids cascaded around her. “I do not wish this. Come with us. Bring him and I promise you, I will advocate before the All-Father personally for your man. I will see him in Valhalla, with a drink at one elbow and a wench at the other, for an eternity waiting for the call for the end of the world. Sister, I will do this for you. I beg you, do your duty.” Her last words dropped like stone from a great height; final and unyielding.
“I… choose him. I wish I could say it was selfless, I wish I could-”
Tears made shining tracks down her cheeks, waves as Paige shook her head. She took a breath, and another, calming the shake in her voice. Blue hit blue, the indigo in their eyes matching and causing a spark.
“I choose him.”
“Very well, sister.” Brunnhilde replaced her helmet slowly, reluctantly. “I wish this was otherwise, but sister, this is a soul that you owe to the All-Father. Be careful. Be very careful. This debt might be paid for in a manner dearer than you have any recognition of.”
Not all were willing to abide by this agreement, it seemed, as Amora strode up to the two women, radiating her discontent in a shimmering aura around her. "Do not listen to this mortal, mead-bearer!" she said stridently, cutting the air with a sharp motion of her hand. "Perform the duty you are sworn to carry out - take this man with you and depart this realm."
Paige didn’t hesitate, burying the tip of the Asgardian sword into the Enchantress’ stomach. The god looked at her with wide eyes. Only Asgardian steel could truly harm her, and this young woman somehow possessed such a blade. She caught the blade before it had sunk too deeply, but the shock was enough. Amora was a coward, and the thought of physical or even mortal harm scared her more that her obsession with Thor. With a whispered word, the god blinked out of existence, leaving a scattering of light motes and drops of blood in her place.
“Paige, daughter of Lucinda. You have created a great many debts for yourself tonight.” Brunnhilde vaulted back on her horse. There was sadness in her eyes, but a glimmer of pride as well. Valkyries respected boldness and bravery, and she had shown both. “May we meet again under clearer skies, sister.”
With that, they took to the sky, leaving the fallen behind this once.
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