Disclaimed.
Valkyrie wants more than this, she thinks one night getting dressed in the silence of her bedroom. She wants more than fighting, death and pain. She wants more than magic and velvet-voiced skeletons.
She wants little Alice perched on her lap, looking at her with the kind of hero-worship she once produced by the bucket load. She wants her mother to nag her about grandchildren and her father to argue against it, until she's at least fifty. She wants China to be her friend, and Tanith to come back.
Valkyrie wants to be twelve again, when the world was dangerous, but still so very bright.
She imagines herself back then, naïve, trusting, and determined to have her way. She imagines the time when she and Skulduggery were just the good guys, when they were the enforcers of justice, rather than secret keepers and mass-murdering freaks.
Valkyrie wants to see herself smile again, but every time she passes a mirror, especially one of full-length, all she can see is her own face distorted by rage, as her fists bang against the glass demanding to be let out. Her reflection's eyes are much too sharp, much too dark and much too like her own. Valkyrie wants to just be Stephanie and Valkyrie again, not Stephanie, Valkyrie, Reflection and-
Darquesse wants the world to crumple at her fingertips. Not all at once, but bit by bit she wants upheave entire countries, make all the citizens feel fear, and then end them with a wave of her hand. She wants her power to be acknowledged and revered; she wants to dominate. But at the same time she wants more than that too. She wants to be challenged, to be dominated by someone else, but only one other person-
Vile.
Valkyrie stops that train of thoughts, quickly. She stops Darquesse's whispers and shoves her farther back into her mind. She closes her eyes, breathes, and opens them again.
She peers out her window to watch the Bentley pull up and then sits on her bed to pull on her boots. Her jacket is slipped on as she clambers out her window and drops quietly to the ground, snow crunching softly beneath her feet as she pulls the air to slide the window shut sharply.
Valkyrie flinches at the snap that reverberates through the echoing quiet, and when nothing happens she turns swiftly on her heel and makes a mad dash, slipping into the Bentley with practiced ease. Skulduggery turns to her with a questioning tilt of his head, but she says nothing until he puts the car in first and beings to drive away.
It's the middle of winter, but Valkyrie rolls down her window and lets the icy air stings her cheeks and nose, and pull at her hair.
She wants a lot of things, Valkyrie realizes and she doesn't think herself terrible for it. She refuses to believe herself selfish when the world demands her to sacrifice everything; when Skuduggery demands her to sacrifice herself. After all how much has she given to be a part of this? How many bones had she broken protecting those useless bratty schoolmates of hers from Gods, and cult members and other random sociopaths? How much blood has she spilt trying to keep the magical world a secret? How many horrors have she seen?
Too many, Valkyrie thinks, too many. She resists the urge to let her shoulders slump and takes a deep breath. She won't give in to self-pity no matter how much she wants too.
She wants a lot of things desperately, wants them like people want a cause or a purpose in life.
Skulduggery opens her door for her- a new habit, that makes the parts of her that are still Stephanie swoon a bit- and she steps out taking his hand and a deep breath. She may want a lot of things, but at least she knows she has what she needs right here.
So long, that is, as Skulduggery remains here too, and doesn't get sucked of into another alternate dimension, because she is done with that shit.
Seriously.