Please be nice to me. I'm pretty new at the fan fiction writing, but I do want to keep this story as good as I can, and believe me I'm trying my best. Obviously, Derek owns this story, not me, and he's fantastic. However, despite all that, I'm going to try to keep this story as original and yet down to earth Skulduggery-y (don't think that's a word) as I can. Thanks for reading
Outside of Gordon's mansion where Valkyrie lay, half asleep, the rain drizzled lazily in the hazy humid air, just after a thunderstorm. She had her head on her very, very warm forehead, but didn't dare call Skulduggery or her parents to take her to any doctor. She knew exactly what she was sick with and it made the rain outside terrifyingly depressing.
Although she didn't often, she allowed herself to reflect.
Among Valkyrie's friends, there was a running joke. It was that Valkyrie Cain did not mess up often- but when she did, she messed up bad.
She hated- deep in the marrow of her bones and DNA- hat they were about to be proven right.
It had all started in a nightclub in Dublin. It was a Friday night, she'd had the night off and Skulduggery had let her go, despite the huge drama that was occurring in the magical community and the manhunt for a mass-murderer.
Mevolent was back.
And strangely passive. While he'd been gone- supposedly defeated- he'd left the influence of his peers, and fellow worshippers, a good affect for him, apparently. There were rumors that Mevolent was searching for a way to live in the open, and to form a truce with the sanctuary.
Skulduggery thought-and Valkyrie agreed- that it was all probably bullshit.
After dedicated his entire life, killing millions and then just… changing his mind? Skulduggery had pointed this out at the short meeting with Erskine, Ghastly, Mist and other higher-ups in the sanctuary, and they'd given him permission to hunt Mevolent down and bring him back.
Unharmed, sadly enough.
That had been a week before the nightclub incident, and the manhunt hadn't been going very well. It was confirmed that Mevolent was in Ireland, but after that it was like he… just disappeared into the bowels of Dublin city.
It probably would have been smarter for Valkyrie to take her partying- which she wasn't supposed to be doing in the first place- outside of Dublin, knowing that. It would have been smarter, knowing she had hours upon hours of hard work ahead of her, to get some much-needed sleep. And yet that teenage state of mind, that impatience and restlessness made her hesitate to even look at her bed.
It could have been the excitement and anticipation of the week that was getting to her, it could have been the stories her friends at school told about the wild, crazy parties and the wild crazy boys that made her ache, just a little, to be able to experience that.
Patience was never her virtue, anyway.
She pulled out her little black dress, deep from the bowels of her closet, and smiled. It was tight, by design, and although it wouldn't have fit her a year ago, and it might not fit her the next year, on that day, it fit perfectly. So rather feeling like a criminal; she climbed into it and admired herself in the mirror. It made her look totally different. Older, with better cheekbones (not that they needed to be improved in the first place) and it elegantly displayed a womanly figure that even Valkyrie was surprised to find had been hiding under a black suit for probably quite a while.
Feeling somewhat smug, she put more makeup on than usual, even though she wasn't quite sure if she was going out yet or where, and admired the results once again.
Gorgeous. Stunning.
She and Fletcher had broken up about a month or so ago, and while she'd flirted around and there were some boys out there with definite potential, she felt like she needed just one more night, just one, to finally and totally get over any and everything Fletcher ever meant to her.
He had been a sweet, loyal boyfriend after all. Maybe not the perfect guy for her, but she still had allowed a few reserved feelings to blossom for him, and it was those feeling that she was confident she could kill.
She didn't bother with stilettos, she didn't trust them, and instead pulled out a pair of boots that went up past her knees, an odd gift from Crystal and Carol. It took her a while to lace them up, but was appeased when she saw her reflection.
She slipped out her window, a normal act for her, but oddly thrilling on that night, and slipped out for a taxi that she allowed to take her all the way to the heart of Dublin, and it's best nightclub.
Valkyrie had no idea what she was about to get herself into that night, and what she was about to start.
On that same night, Mevolent was making plans. The worst type, too. The plans he was making... did not include anything fun. There was no interest array of people. No shaken prisoner cowering in the corner. No glamorous, pleased women. Not even tea for him to drink. Mevolent sat in a smokey, dirty room, by a window that had a coating of dirt no chemicals could remove, and he brooded. And brooded. And then brooded some more. In times of brooding, normally he'd sit in a nice, clean room, surrounded by relics of his old religion, and highly intelligent people.
It was, quite possibly, the intelligent people he missed the most.
Teenagers, insecure and high on the party that was shaking the walls, screamed and shouted beneath the thin floorboards. His brain rattled with it. His skeleton shook from it. His blood screamed to it. He kept one hand firmly pressed against his temple, and was aware that it wasn't doing much to hold back a rather intense headache. He'd had many, many options to chose from. Many places he could go. Despite what they told the sanctuary after the War ended, their were more of his followers than their were back in the day. More and more people who would be willing to fight for him.
Along time ago, it would have irked him to no extent that the reason that they followed him was not out of loyalty for the Faceless Ones, but rather out of confidence of his political grace. Currently though, the knowledge that the Church of the Faceless, and hopefully all they stood for, was falling pleased him. When he was younger, he was inspired by the Faceless Ones. He had made people inspired by the Faceless Ones, and yet...
He understood and accepted now that the Faceless Ones were not the gods he had dreamed them to be. Now, if he mentioned the Faceless Ones at all, it was just to get his former allies back on his side.
He didn't believe in the good the Faceless Ones would do for him anymore. He did believe in the good a lot of strong, powerful allies and political power would do for him, however.
"Sir?" A chubby man said from behind him, a greasy t-shirt and fake, cheesy riped clothes that made Mevolent grimace. He forced a good, kind, friendly smile, and turned to the good man that'd offered him shelter. He'd accepted DJ Wicked's offer on the single account of it was the place no one would think to look for him. A silly, crazy nightclub in the bad side of town of Dublin.
"Mr. Wicked." He said with a voice as smooth as the Skeleton detective's, only there was a deep, baritone edge to his and the words that came out of his mouth could make anyone shiver. "Is there something wrong? Surely, there is some problem; you wouldn't come up here just to see me, would you, when you have such an important job?"
"O-Oh, no, sir. There is no problem. It's not a problem at all, really, to come and see you." The cheap, chubby man babbled. "I really do appreciate it. It's just well... about my job..."
"Yes?" Mevolent asked, his voice soft, patient. He was not prepared for the audacity of what the man would say next.
"Well, sir... normally, you see... we use this room for the guests." There was a note of assertiveness in his voice that worried Mevolent, but he kept his face neutral, waiting. If nothing else, Mevolent could be a gentleman. "I need you to leave."
"Pardon?" There was a blank look in Mevolent's eyes. No one had said something like that to him since he overtook the thrown from under the King's nose.
"I need you to leave this room. I have to use it for the guests. I know it's not safe for you to go outside..." Damn straight it wasn't safe for Mevolent to go outside. There were hundreds of Sanctuary agents combing the streets as they spoke. Mevolent gaped at the man, undignified. "So, if you could, just, go downstairs and, oh, I don't know... Mingle with the partygoers, that would be... great, actually."
And that was how, on the eve of change, Mevolent would met his ultimate nemisis- a young woman, by the name of Valkyrie Cain.
Thanks for reading. I'll have the next chapter soon, hopefully. If it's taking too long for you, feel free to bug me. It motivates me, promise. Yell at me to write the next chapter, at any time and I'll get to it. (... just don't be really mean...)