This is my first major attempt to write fanfic. It was inspired by the Xena Convention in 2012. It is told from Brunhilda's POV. A bit angsty, which is how I endeavor to live every day of my life.
I, too, sing of a warrior whose strength was undone by the shadows of darkness. And who was remade by distant, white hot flames.
She was wandering through the marketplace. A lithe body of scars upon a petite, but sinewy frame. She wore an air of confidence in her shoulders, but sorrow in her eyes. At first glance, it was clear she was not from the North country. She wore clothing of leather patchwork, with triton like weapons affixed to her boots. These clothes and weapons were far from practical in this country. The tanned hides of animals with fur would ensure a slow painful death at by midnight, if she kept on this path. Her hair was blond and eyes so green it was as though she grew from our earth and our lineage, but she was not hardened like us. Blistered and battle worn, this country was dark too often for anyone to have the kind of light she carried inside.
I was drawn to her. I had never seen such controlled power along side such unbridled beauty. As she began to walk through the marketplace, I found myself in her shadow. At first, I kept my distance. I was afraid that the slightest intrusion would set her senses on edge and potentially erupt into a duel, rather than a "hello.".
I should have known that there was no hiding from her. Such sinews and scars are not born from aloof minds or absent bodies. Our first encounter happened in front of a tapestry. A custom, not of the Norse, but of the noble, our heroes and their foes were enshrined in threads that wove words into pictures, shapes into stories telling me she was looking for her warrior. Her soul mate who had ventured here on an unknown mission. She said her warrior's name was Xena.
When she spoke, her voice sang no melodies. She carried only intonations of harmonies that could not change keys. Stuck In a tragic loop of conflict and sadness. I understood her words, but had no idea what they meant. And then she said Xena.
I knew the legends of her warrior well. She had served in Odin's elite guard of Valkyries, mortal warriors who escorted fallen heroes to the halls of Valhalla. After betraying both Odin and the Valkyries, Xena fled the realm and left Valhala to fall into ruin. The guard became wracked with suspicion and deceit. Faced with the awareness that such corruption led them astray, Odin questioned their purpose as well as the reason for saving these warrior souls. Could Valhalla be entrusted with these heroes?
When its turmoil had reached its height, I was asked to join the guard. I had just returned home after many months at sea. In search of food before the winter came, I led expeditions to the farthest reaches of our maps to provide for my people. Along the way, we faced many obstacles. And, as Odin put it, he chose me because "I was as harsh and dark as the winter." He said he needed a winter storm to quell the uprising. Intrigued by the promise of power and the allure of battle, I agreed to lead his guard. And in agreeing to lead, I also agreed to seek vengeance in his name, should Xena return to our shores.
What could such goodness want with a warrior princess? This foreigner would have no use for the violent bloodlust of the warrior princess. However, in as a Valkyrie, I had seen more than my share of impossible events, so I decided to learn more about both my opponent and this new, beautiful perplexity.
As she spoke of her journeys with Xena, she showed me a side of a warrior that I had never known. As a Valkyrie, I collected souIs of warriors with death at the end of their swords. But every time she spoke of battles, her words were not harsh or cruel, arrogant or bloodthirsty. Instead she told me of her victories with such sadness. She grew more mysterious with every story, as though she regretted victory because it brought her no absolution.
Not fully able to understand her remorse, I decided that I needed to see it in action. I needed to see how battle shaped such a tragic fighter. In our first fight, I attacked with little restraint in the off chance that I would be able to shock the fury out of her and see her mercy in its actuality. I drew my sword and laid into her with tenacity. Although I had no intention of killing her, I bade her react as though death was imminent. She reacted instinctively. Each of my parries was deflected with the handles of her mini tritons. It seemed odd that she held a defensive stance the entire fight. I gave her plenty of chances to attack, but she refused to take the bait and lunge. She also refused to fight me with her blades. Until a sweeping overhead attack, our blades didn't even touch.
I had never met anyone who saw fighting as a type of self immolation, as though winning was a personal sacrifice. I could see in her eyes her instinctive restraint each time I opened myself up trying to lure her into an attack. And then it happened. I drew first blood. And it was my own. It was a blur, but I parried hard to her right, and as I was about to repose, she intertwined our blades and forced mine downward. My natural momentum drew the whetted metal across my thigh.
And I was hers. She was the first person in decades to remind me of my humanity. The sight of blood made me feel strangly alive. And I wasn't going to let her go anywhere if she could make me feel that way again. Since joining Odin's legion I have woken up every day feeling as though I was missing a piece of me. In all my days of raiding parties and fishing expeditions, I had never felt the emptiness that greeted me in his legion. I long ago realized that no matter how many souls were saved or battles prevented that the emptiness wasn't going anywhere. It had somehow welded itself to my bones. And in this fight with this blonde warrior from the west, I felt for a split second a wholeness that I had been wanting for years. Her allegiance to Xena reminded me of something bigger than saved souls or wars averted. She showed me I was missing purpose and conviction. Although my work as a Valkyrie has a purpose, the purpose of collecting souls, it wasn't as the same. They saved families and children, I took fighters and murderers. And they knew that they were changing the world. Just looking into her blonde trellises gave me a vision of what I could become and of whom I had once been.
We traveled the Norse woods in search of her lost warrior. It took us longer than expected, which was my gift and my curse from both her gods and mine. During the first night, when my leg wound and bruised feelings mended, we discussed the journey ahead. And then she shared with me some stories over our campfire. The first one was when she met Xena and how they saved her hometown. Her journey with Xena never seemed to be an easy one. There were unspoken hardships that had shaped them both. After dinner, she drifted off into the arms of Niorun.
I stared into the night sky, watching the gods' paintbrushes sweep streaks of blue and green and red between the stars, wondering if this beautiful woman would let me stay by her side forever, or at least let me stick around and help her find Xena. I woke up early and began packing for our journey. She woke up shortly after with tears in her eyes, and said nothing as she packed up camp. I followed her lead. For two days we repeated this same pattern.
On day three, we came across her warrior, Xena. She was hunting a demon that had been terrorizing the area. A demon that her former self had managed to create. I offered to fight alongside them, for fear that in leaving I would never see my blonde angel. We followed Xena's lead and stalked the beast to the depths of its den. It was there that her curse was undone and she returned home to Valhalla.
However, the cost of this small mercy was far greater than anyone could have expected. Xena was able to retrieve the ring, but in so doing was compelled to use it to save both herself and my warrior. The ring took from her every memory that she had of Gabrielle. Xena had lost her most valued possession, her memories of her beautiful confidante.
When I speak of conviction, I am always amazed by the power of one person's conviction in saving another. Even the warriors that I save possess strength and courage, but their conviction really only lies in their own happiness. These heroes talk of their families and comrades in arms, but they don't mean it. Fighting to save the wife in duty and brothers in humor are lies they tell themselves. Instead, these fighters are selfish monsters, but in the fight of Valhalla, it doesn't matter why they fight, it just matters that they do it until the throne is safe. And selfishness is motivation enough for Odin. And it was once enough for me. But with Gabrielle, selfishness carries an emptiness now. As I followed her over the next few days in her aimless search for Xena, she began to succumb to her sorrow. More mornings with more tears.
I couldn't take her sadness anymore, and asked her to stay with me. I don't remember the first time I asked her to join with me and stop searching for Xena. I promised her everything she was missing and more. I was never a murderer like her Xena. I was a warrior, never a warlord and I could promise her a just future. There we no secrets looming in my past. No hidden dangers or holy vendettas. She didn't have to fear what I could become if she left my side. All she needed to fear was the warmth I could give her. I told her how I could piece together the broken fragments of life, death, violence, war and lost innocence. I would forgive her for every treason she committed against her beliefs without ever asking her to forgive me. She would never need to dream of my past and fear for my future. I would love her as she had loved Xena. She would be my first love, last love and only truth.
She said no.
And I was broken. I pleaded her to reconsider. I wanted the chance to fulfill my promises to her and keep her safe. And she said no. She loved her Xena and that was enough for her to continue her journey to the ends of the earth.
Afraid to say good bye to her, I decided to follow her until the next full moon. It was only three days away and it was enough time for me to make peace with my life on this earth. It was also enough time for me to make peace with myself so that I could fulfill my promise to keep her safe with or without her consent. For two days, we wandered through the treacherous forest. Although we came across the last signs of Xena's struggle, we found only dried blood and footprints. No sword or chakram in sight. Ever the hunters, we followed the trail to where land ends and sea begins. Xena must have made it to the waters and caught the attention of any number of seafaring people. At this time of year, it could have been anyone who picked her up, and it broke my heart to tell my gentle warrior that Xena was lost for now and at least another four months. Winter was setting in. The stories of Norse winters never did them justice. The poets and bards could never recreate how the dark and cold froze a person to the very core of her being. Being from the west, she had no idea how maddening the darkness was, or how bitter the cold made this earth. I bade her spend one last night in the forest and that I would grant her safe, warm passage through the winter, in the hopes that she could continue searching for her warrior. She asked me how I would be able to do such a thing, and I explained that I was a Valkyrie and would be able to give her this one last gift before my time with her was done. "So that you can return to Valhalla?" she asked.
"I will have to leave you. I was given a purpose on this earth and I must fulfill it," I replied. I gave her a stoic and slightly displeased look so that she wouldn't inquire any further. Whether she believed my lie or not was of little importance, she sensed my sadness and pressed the issue no more.
We walked back into the forest's cover and found a place to bed down for the night. I set out to bring down a few snow hares for dinner along with a few fish I found in a fresh water pond. I wanted our final dinner to be a celebration of sorts. When I returned to our camp, and was met with a quizzical look, I told her that there was much to celebrate, if not this moment, then in the near future. She smiled and seemed to understand what I meant. She skinned and gutted my catch and placed them on spits to cook.
Sitting across from her, I couldn't help but notice how truly beautiful she was through the firelight. While I had only noticed her spirit and warrior physique before, now I had the opportunity to see how beautiful she truly was. Noticing me staring, she gave a shy giggle and averted eye contact. Freyja would have envied my savior, had the goddess been on earth at the time. "Your image will be the undoing of many, my love. And they will consider themselves lucky that it is the last image they see," I whispered to myself.
"What do you mean it will be 'the undoing of many' and the 'last image they see?'" she asked as she reached to turn to spits over the fire.
"Umm..nothing," I stammered out, embarrassed she heard me. "I just meant that your beauty is only enhanced through the fire's flame and that it will kill many enamored hearts."
She seemed to accept this compliment as a sufficient explanation, while she brushed it off with an expected humility and resumed cooking our last meal.
After dinner, we curled up under our sleeping furs on either side of the fire and stared up at the gods' canvas. This night of all nights, they painted such beauty as only my warrior's face possessed. And then she began to tell me stories. She sang of her battles with giants and titans and gods at the side of Xena. It was truly amazing to hear what they had been able to overcome together. When she was done, she asked me to tell her a story, give her something to remember me by.
I told her of my life before Odin's guard. I sang of my small village with my parents and little brother. I told her of my last night there. I had just returned from a hunting expedition. My warriors and I had managed to bring down a great number of reindeer and were excited at the prospect of feeding our village through the cold darkness. Upon returning, I was greeted by the love of my life. Her name was Herdis, and she was amazing. She made me a better person just by being with her. We were to be married in the spring, and could not wait. Exhausted from the week's tasks, I walked her home and fell asleep next to her in front of her fire. Her parents draped blankets over us and must have retired for the evening shortly after we did. I don't know how long I was asleep, before being roused by the panicked screams of her family. In an act of cowardly desperation, a neighboring village attacked our food stores when their warriors had come home empty handed. I grabbed by sword and made for the door as fast as I could, but Herdis reached to grab my cloak and stopped me. "Let them take what they must, and let them leave. Something doesn't feel right," she said.
Never one to back down I told her to stay put and that I would return. Then I threw the door open and headed for the melee. My kinsmen and I were able to fend off the intruders with few casualties, and after the conflict died down, I sheathed my sword and returned to reassure my beloved that we were safe. When I opened her door I was greeted with a hug and sigh of relief. As she relinquished her tight hold on me, I stood staring into her eyes. And then it happened. Her look of love turned into a flush of terror as she spun me around and into the house. She pushed me inside, closed the door and said goodbye while gently pressing her lips to mine. I held her close and kissed her back until I began to taste the ferrous repugnance of blood. Next, her legs gave way and she collapsed in my arms. As I sank to the ground holding her lifeless body, my hands grazed the shaft of the arrow that was lodged between her shoulder blades. The only thing I remember from that point on is lighting her funeral pyre. When the smoke cleared, Odin arrived.
When I finished my story I didn't hear any noise from her and assumed she had gone to sleep. I whispered good night to her and rolled over in my bedding. Within moments I was venturing close to Niorun's ice castle when I felt something rustle the edges of my sleeping furs. "I left the extra furs tied in a bundle near the fire. They should be nice and warm now," I murmured, knowing that she wasn't as accustomed to the temperatures as I was.
"Can I lie down with you?" she asked in a soft whisper.
"Of course, are you that cold?" I asked feeling wide awake, while I kept my eyes shut. I made space and she snuggled in under my sleeping furs and wrapped her arms around me.
"I'm so sorry. Neither of you deserved that."
"It was a long time ago. And besides, we have your Xena to worry about right now. My time for love has come and gone." There were tears in my eyes and I choked back memories of my love. With each breath, I felt the growing wave of agony that began in my chest and washed over my body like ice water in my veins.
"Tomorrow will be about me and Xena if you like, but I want tonight to be about you. She was your last love and I want…."
"No, you are my last love. And, as is my way with love, I will lose you, too. But at least I am prepared for this and I have the chance to save you."
"And who will save you?"
"I have been saved more times that this world allows. My life decades ago, my soul this day and everyday forward."
I exhaled. And it felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I had been saved in this life and my next.
I could feel her readjusting her position next to me. She raised her lithe body onto her forearm and brought her free hand across my cheek. She gently brushed away a tear I hadn't even felt fall. But her touch made me keenly aware of the gentle stream that was destined to trickle down my face. She leaned in to kiss my still closed eyes. My breath caught in my throat as her kisses made her way to my quivering lips.
"Thank you. For everything that you have done and intend to do, thank you," she whispered into my mouth.
She placed a last kiss on my lips and wedged her body flush against my side, her strong arms holding me close. Her breathing began to soften and even out. And as I closed my eyes for the night, my dreams were more flashbacks than creations of my own mind. I watched my first meeting with Gabrielle, our struggles with the monster, my beloved Herdis and the gentle kisses and warm embraces that had come to signify the end of one and the beginning of another. The morning would come soon and I would welcome it having known love and greeting selflessness.