After all of the stealing and cheating

You probably think that

I hold resentment for you

But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong

'Cause if it wasn't for all

That you tried to do

I wouldn't know just how capable I am to pull through

So I wanna say thank you

'Cause it

Makes me that much stronger

Makes me work a little bit harder

Makes me that much wiser

So thanks for making me a fighter

Made me learn a little bit faster

Made my skin a little bit thicker

Makes me that much smarter

So thanks for making me a fighter

Fighter- Christina

The first time she saw Halfborn Gunderson fight, she had been so shocked- whether by his abs or his fighting style, or by the whole place in general, she'd never know- that she had died within moments, having barely lifted her sword. The first time she saw T.J. fight, really fight, she had realized just how little idea she had of what she was doing. They'd tried to baby her a bit, watch her back, warn her when an attack was incoming. She ignored them, dodged them, went off on her own. She died pretty quickly that day, too.

But Mallory Keen was a born fighter. She had been born months too early, struggling to live from the very first breath she almost failed to take. And so it was no surprise to anyone that she had spent the first few years of her afterlife fighting with Halfborn Gunderson and T.J. She would come out of her quarters scowling, make some kind of nasty comment, which Halfborn would answer, and then she'd stalk off, furious, and train. Oh, how she trained. She had never really used a proper weapon before, and it infuriated her to die so quickly on the battlefield. To make up for it, she worked harder than she ever had on her life- teaching herself to use a sword or axe, knife or bow.

Now, however, she was learning how to share her fight with others, to trust them, to give something of herself to them. And so, when she and T.J and Halfborn sat in the common room late into the night, long after she had stopped visiting Gunderson for midnight lullabies, she started to tell them her story. She sat down in her favorite chair one evening, and with a thud settled her photo album onto the table in front of them.

"That's it," she said softly, daring either of them to say anything with her eyes, but neither seemed up to the challenge- or perhaps they sensed that if they made a comment, she would pick the book back up and leave...which she probably would. The girl flipped the book open, revealing the first photo- a woman with frizzy red curls and green eyes identical to Mallory sat on a hideously printed couch, a green kerchief barely keeping said curls at bay as she peered glowingly down at the tiny wrapped bundle in her arms.

"My mother, Sylvia."

"She looks just like you." T.J's voice was soft, tentative, and Halfborn clapped him on the shoulder with a barking laugh, "I don't know, she's missing the scowl."

Mallory gave him a dark look, but continued on, "She was an artist. She painted, crafted, sculpted, created something new from everything she touched. She was full of light and beauty. Everything she touched just...came to life."

She flipped the page, another picture- this time her mother was standing with a tall man with mouse-brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a rather severe looking suit, but the expression on his face when he looked at her was adoring,

"My dad. He loved my mother more than anything. Mum came over to the London from Ireland with her grandparents when she was a little girl, but Dad was born there. His family disowned him when he married her- she told me she used to fight with them all the time. They wanted her to be a meek, obedient wife who spent her days in the kitchen and cleaning house. But, Mum wasn't like that at all. She carved her own path, never asked anyone for help, lived her life on her terms and nobody else's."

Mallory looked up, and saw that both boys were watching her with fascination. Halfborn grinned widely at her, "Well, at least we know where you got your winning personality from."

She threw her knife at him, and he caught it deftly from the air, tossing it back as she turned another page. This had several photos- her as a toddler, covered in paint on a dropcloth with her father looking exasperated in the background, her first day of Kindergarten, her riding a bike for the first time, smiling a wide gap-toothed grin.

"When I was seven, Mum started getting sick. Cancer. Dad and I watched her slowly waste away, watched her inner light get snuffed out day by day. She fought it til the very end, but there just wasn't any way…"

Tears she hadn't known were gathering in her eyes trailed down her cheeks, and in a flash T.J had an arm around her shoulder, and Halfborn one around her waist,

"You don't have to…" T.J started, but the shook her head, pressing her palms to her eyes to stop the floodgates,

"No, I do. I owe you the whole story- you have to know…" she took a deep breath, "You guys are my family, now."

Gunderson rested his chin on the top of her head, and T.J put his chin on her shoulder, and she flipped the page again. She was a teenager now, about thirteen in these photos.

"Dad had always been really busy- he worked all the time. When he came home, though, he put work away and made everything all about Mum. I mean, I guess he liked me too, but it was pretty obvious even to me, when I was little, that she was his whole world. So, when she died, he just kinda….broke."

She bit her lip, tapping the photo where a young blonde boy sat next to her on a park bench, a few other people gathered around it. She decided she wasn't ready to tell them about Aaron, though, and glossed over the details a bit.

" I...with dad working all the time, and drinking when he was home, I started doing everything on my own. I was riding my bike out to get groceries by the time I was 10, cooking for myself, doing laundry, all that kind of thing. I'd stay out to all hours in the evenings too. Playing with friends when I was little, but then when I got bigger...well. I got into trouble a lot..Got involved with some bad people, including someone with the Irish Republican Army. They were the ones who set up the car bomb that I died trying to disarm. "

She flipped through the next few pages pretty quickly. Nothing really interesting there- just stuff from her extracurriculars in high school, they didn't need to know all the details, she told herelf. She wasn't ready to talk about Aaron yet, and the way he'd hurt her, made her trust him, made her believe...She'd traded the bat away as soon as she found someone who wanted it. She'd hated that thing, and the reminders it had carried. Aaron had always come to her softball games- he loved baseball, collected the cards and followed the players religiously.

Quietly, T.J removed his arm from her shoulders and disappeared for a moment, coming back with three sleeping bags,
"Lets sleep out here tonight," he suggested. Mallory gave him a grateful smile as she climbed silently into hers, with Halborn on her left and T.J on her right.. Dredging up old memories was sure to bring the nightmares back, and she knew she would sleep better with her shield-brothers beside her.

Mondays were the Viking version of Capture the Flag. They divided into teams, generally two halls per team, and one person would hide a flag. Then, battle would commence- but the main goal was not necessarily to completely decimate the other team. Instead, you were to try and get the flag as quickly as possible. She liked this better than Siege days (which she found tediously boring) but less than free-for-all Tuesdays. There was a lot of strategy involved, and because she was so small, Mallory got to do less taking out enemies and was more often expected to be the one to sneak into the enemy camp and steal the flag.

Today, however, they were teamed up with a different Hall than usual. Most of the time they paired up with Halfborn's old squad in Hall 5, but looking around, Mallory realized that the entire squad was missing from the field as teams gathered and started discussing strategies. It was unusual, though not unheard of, for an entire team to skip morning battle training. Usually only if they were on a Quest, though occasionally a team just needed a break from the constant rigors of battle. They'd just seen them the day before, however, and while some of them looked uneasy, they hadn't mentioned taking the day off today.

Mallory couldn't shake the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it away. They were not -her- shield brothers. Those two were gathered close with the rest of their group, discussing how best to capture the flag of the combined forces of Halls 4 and 13. They had a former track star on their team, and so it was unanimously decided that he would be the fetch-er with Mallory as backup. So, she'd have to tail him just in case he got taken out. At least she'd still have an opportunity to slice some people open, though.

She waved a quick goodbye to the rest of the team as the track star- James- headed for a tree to scout out the position of their enemy team. T.J was tasked with hiding their flag, so he went off in the opposite direction while Mallory waited at the bottom of the tree, sword at the ready. She rather hoped the other team was stupid enough to leave a large group around their flag. She liked the idea of having to carve her way through the masses- she was still feeling a bit off, and nothing could pull her out of a funk quite the same way as sinking her knife into the belly of some fool.

She got her wish shortly after. James didn't see anything particularly obvious as far as hiding spots go, and so the two of them slink through whatever cover they can find, listening, waiting, watching. Eventually, they came across a pair of 'enemy' warriors and Mallory grinned widely, "C'mon, let's take 'em," she whispered, "We can knock them out and give our teammates an advantage. Plus, they're in our way."

James looked hesitant, but obviously spotted the determination in her stance, because the boy shrugged and got to his feet. Within seconds, Mallory had darted forward, sword slashing towards the bigger of the pair- a girl with a long blonde braid down her back. Mallory couldn't remember what the girl's name was, but she did know she was from Hall 13 and hadn't been around very long. If she'd realized that before zeroing in on her, she'd have left the girl for James- she wanted more of a challenge.

Still, the blonde managed to get her sword out before Mallory cut her head off, and that was something. Her blocks were weak, however, and the red-head knew it would only be a matter of time before she'd push through her defenses. A slash to her forehead, block, a knife to the side, shield, a kick at the knees..ah, there, the bigger girl was down and Mallory sunk her serrated dagger into the girl's neck, "Better luck next time," she grinned as the light went out of her eyes and blood seeped down her chest in crimson rivulets.

Mallory spun around, checking on her companion. The smaller of the pair they had spotted was deceptively quick, light on her feet, and clearly more experienced than Mallory had realized. James was fast enough to dodge her attacks for the most part, but he was going to wear himself out, and there was enough strength behind her strikes that Mallory was certain he'd be toast if she didn't intervene. Luckily, intervening was exactly what she had in mind anyways.

As the dark-haired girl's gigantic sword swung towards James' legs, Mallory slipped her own blade across the girl's shoulder, causing her to swing around leading with her shield-hand in an attempt to clock Mallory in the head. She missed, owing to her lack of knowledge on the red-head's exact position, as well as Mallory being awesome in general. James slipped out of the reach of the oversized sword while waiting for a better opportunity to attack. The dark-haired girl growled at Mallory,

"Is that all you've got?"

Her green eyes rolled as she met the blade swinging towards her neck with her own, ducking underneath it and aiming her dagger at the other girl's side. It nicked her, but the girl managed to slide right quickly enough to avoid the worst of it,

"I'm just getting warmed up."

While a one on two fight wasn't quite the joyful chaos of battle she'd been hoping for, at least she had a capable opponent. She would have been fine with James sitting it out, but either chivalry or bloodlust got the best of him and he went in for another hack at the dark haired girl's knee while Mallory spun around her back, not wanting to be in front of that huge sword.

Unfortunately for James, the girl was agile with her weapon despite its size- really, who needed a sword as long as they were? - and the blade came down hard on his arm, slicing half the skin from his bones. No matter how many times you've died, or how adjusted you think you are to pain, getting your arm halfway flayed stings like mad, and the boy let out a loud yelp, dropping his sword.

Mallory managed to slide her dagger between the girl's ribs, but it wasn't enough to kill her, and she managed to swing her sword with enough weight to slice clean through James' neck while his weapon was down and he was distracted by his arm. The redhead cursed. Now she was faced with a dilemma: keep up the fight and risk possibly getting decapitated as well- a small risk, but one nonetheless….or run so that she could try to capture the flag, rather than let her team lose.

Mallory hated running, but she also hated losing. Her curses were more colorful as she wrested her dagger from the girl's ribcage and ducked as the sword swung back around when the dark haired girl spun to face her. This was it. Run now and secure victory, or fight and possibly die, leaving her team in the lurch.

Her sword sliced towards the girl almost of its own volition, and Mallory used it as a distraction, turning to run off, try to lose her. The girl's sword clipped her leg, however, and Mallory grimaced briefly as her thigh stung when she lifted her foot. That'd slow her up more than she liked, but she ignored the stream of crimson dripping down her calf and pooling in her sneakers, focusing instead on getting away so she could complete her mission.

The girl gave chase, of course, but Mallory was quicker since she didn't have to lug around a sword that probably weighed half again as much as she did, and she was smart enough to take advantage of the river she heard rushing by so that the blood wouldn't leave a trail to follow. After a while, she heard the girl curse loudly and turn away- presumably to join the rest of her team in battle.

She felt like a stinking coward for slinking away like this, and the dull throb of the slice in her thigh seemed worse than usual because of it. Briefly, she kicked at the water in frustration before pulling out a piece of cloth from her pocket and wrapping up the wound to keep the blood from slipping her up while it healed. Then, she found the nearest tree and climbed, ignoring the agony in her leg as she had learned how to do quite well over the past decade.

Her leg was shaking uncontrollably by the time she got into a good position to check out how the battle was going, and she took a moment to let it rest, noting that there were only a few small pockets of fighting here and there, and no flare had been sent up to signal the end of the game and a flag captured.

There was a pair of the opposing team stationed by a rocky outcropping a few miles to the East, and she figured that if they were just standing around, there was a good chance they were guarding something. She checked her leg underneath the bandage, and noted that the healing had at least begun, but she would still probably be limping the whole way there. And then she'd have to fight the two guards by herself.

Grinning at the idea of such a challenge, Mallory clambered out of the tree, willing the adrenaline through her veins to keep her leg from interfering with her walk too much as she angled off in the direction of the rocks. She wondered, as she walked, if her shield brothers were still alive. She hoped so- the second worst part of being sent on retrieval duty was not knowing how the fight was going. Still, they'd both be back before dinner even if they were already dead, so she pushed her worries away and focused on the task at hand.

When she reached the spot she'd decided was their hiding place, only one of the boys was there any longer. The other might have gotten called off to fight, or maybe he was scouting around or hiding in wait for any oncomers. Either way, she was done sneaking about and her leg was feeling a lot better, so she charged forward hoping to catch the one remaining off balance.

It worked, a little. She managed a good strike through his shoulder before he twisted out if the way, axe swinging low to clip her already injured thigh. Mallory growled, dropping to her knee and sweeping his legs out from under him with her uninjured leg. The boy crashed to the ground and the red head quickly scrambled to her feet, pushing the pain to the back of her mind, though her leg still refused to function at max capacity and she had to center her weight on her other leg.

A jab of the sword met axe, but gravity was on her side and she merely pushed the axe back down towards her opponent, causing it to bite deeply into his chest. Gasping, he tried to push her away with his feet, swing out the axe to hit her from the side, but she had the advantage and she had nearly managed to run him through again when the first arrow struck between her shoulderblades.

Muttering darkly, Mallory swung her blade wide as the impact knocked her off course, and the boy's axe struck a bloody slash across her chest. She felt her lungs starting to collapse from the impact and cursed again. Luckily, she recovered enough from this double hit to slice across the throat of the boy still on the ground while the second arrow found its mark in her left hip. Between that and her thigh, she could barely stand any longer, but then she noticed a scrap of yellow fabric and cheered. Whoever that archer was wouldn't be fast enough to catch her before she grabbed it, and Mallory let out a victory shout, scrabbling at the rocks to lift them away with the last of her strength. She had just enough energy to wrap her fingers around the piece of fabric and see the resulting flare before she slipped into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she was sprawled on the couch in the lounge of Hall 19. Her wounds had been dressed and were well on their way to healing. She had clearly not died, and neither had T.J because he was seated cross legged at her feet, scratching out words in one of his journals. He was almost always writing something in their off times, and had once told her that he had a journal of his mother's that had sparked his interest in doing so. She understood that as well as anybody, having been close to her mother as well, and so she only rarely made fun of him for it- and only when she knew he'd take it as the affectionate ribbing she was offering up.

She groaned, rolling over and giving herself a moment to actually feel all the aches and pains in her body before pulling herself into a seated position,
"Halfborn got himself killed?" she asked. T.J nodded, "Some girl with a sword as long as she was stabbed him right through."

Mallory cursed- if she'd just killed the girl when she had the chance...well, it wasn't like Gunderson wasn't used to getting killed on a near-daily basis. And they'd won, so it was worth it in the end. T.J's shirt was off, his union jacket covering only a series of bandages wrapped around his waist. The red head took a moment to really look at him, realizing once again just how small and young he really was. She had to remind herself, on these occasions, that he was not only just a few years younger than herself, but he was also a capable soldier. She stretched, yawning, "How long was I out?"

T.J shrugged, "It's about two, so I'd guess three or four hours? You know how hard it is to tell time when we're on the field."

Mallory nodded, tilting her head thoughtfully, "How come you're sitting here instead of training or something?"

The curly-haired boy sighed, snapping his journal shut and setting it on the side table along with the pen he'd been using to write in it,

"I got some news about..well. From Hall 5. Sigurd jumped into the Ginnungagap last night."

A few of those colorful Gaelic curses escaped Mallory's lips, and she rested her chin on her hand thoughtfully as T.J leaned back against the couch cushions. Neither of them had really known Sigurd, but they'd liked him well enough...even if he'd started getting a little reclusive and spacey lately. But Halfborn...well, Sigurd had been one of his shield brothers before he'd volunteered to move to Hall 19 when T.J came along. While this wasn't the first friend the Viking had lost, it was the first of his Shield Brothers to be so completely and utterly gone, and it was hard to tell how he was going to take the news.

"How do you think we should tell him?" the boy's voice was soft, almost scared, and Mallory frowned. She didn't know why he was asking -her-. He'd been Halfborn's Shield Brother for over a century before Mallory showed up- shouldn't he know better how to handle him? But the fact was that T.J. had always been better with -good- news than with bad news, and Mallory was usually able to separate herself enough from the situation to circumvent the inherent negativity of bad news somewhat. That is- she sounded like enough of a terrible person to cushion the blow, making the news receiver more angry with her than upset about the situation. It was one of her many strengths.

"I'll take care of it," she assured him. She wasn't sure her usual approach would be best in this situation- she'd have to follow Halfborn's lead. But she wasn't about to make T.J handle it if he wasn't comfortable. The kid had enough on his plate as it was, trying to deal with his own emotions on it all. Mallory had known Sigurd the least, so it made sense that she'd be the strong one for both of them.

"Wanna shoot some virtual bad guys?" she asked. T.J perked visibly at the mention of his other favorite pasttime- video games,

"Absolutely!"

It was only an hour or so before dinner when Halfborn's door opened. She'd been hanging about the lounge after playing shooter games with T.J for a few hours, reading and training alternately while waiting for him to regenerate.

"Mallory Keen!" he greeted her warmly, "Were we victorious?"

The girl nodded, uncrossing her legs and stretching them out in front of her on the couch,

"Come sit with me?"

Halfborn's smile faltered somewhat, but he sat down beside her, and she pressed her back against his shoulder,

"Sigurd left us last night."

She could feel the Viking's body tense next to her, and his head tilted downwards for a moment, paying homage to his old friend. He sighed as she adjust to rest her head against his shoulder, letting him process the information. She wasn't sure what to expect, really- and she was a bit surprised as he wrapped his arms around her and smiled,

"Then tonight, we raise a glass in his honor," he assured her, "It may not have been the most honorable death, but he deserves as much for the time he spent and the lives he touched."

Sliding her arm around his waist as well, she squeezed him against her in a tight hug, "Agreed." She wondered, briefly, what she would do if Halfborn or T.J lost their will to fight, lost their minds as they had already seen so many do, or jumped to their doom. Shivering, she pushed the thoughts aside- she would make -sure- that never happened. This was her home, and they were her brothers, and she was -not- going to lose them, not ever.

"You...okay?" she asked gently, and Halfborn shook his head, "As okay as ever. It's not easy, losing friends. But the best way I have found to cope is to make sure they are never forgotten."

Mallory nodded,

"All right. But, if you need to talk..." she kissed his cheek softly, getting to her feet and stretching again, "So. How many strikes did that girl with the sword get in before she took you down?"

Halfborn looked at her with some incomprehensible expression on his face for a moment before seeming to shake himself free of it,

"Four. I managed to take down the other two while she hit me, but she got in a good strike to the head in the end. We ought to seek her out tomorrow during battle- it's a good idea to learn how to fight against such a weapon. The giants at Ragnarok will likely use something just as large."

Mallory nodded, grinning, "Oh, I have a feeling it won't be difficult getting her to attack us- she seemed pretty angry with me for taking out her friend too easily."

Halfborn ruffled her hair, "That's our girl!" she decided just this once not to cut off his hand for it. He was going through enough as it is, she should probably cut him some slack, still, she couldn't take it -too- easy on him or they'd think she was -really- going soft,

"I hate you."

That smile that made her heart flutter again, and she regretted not stabbing him when she had the chance as he uttered a simple,

"I know."

Author's Note: OMG. I had a lot of trouble with getting this one out. The first chunk was easy, but I knew I had to add more than just that, and I kinda hit a wall while writing the rest. Fight scenes are not my forte (clearly) but I'm trying to break out of my comfort zone and, well, Mallory has to have fights. It's just who she is! So. The next one will have a Quest, so it's probably going to take a while to write out as well since that's also not my specialty. At least the editing went quickly for this one, so it's coming out earlier than I anticipated- I won't make the same promises for the next one. I've got about six chapters total, unless I figure out something else I need to add in. The last two will take place during The Gods of Asgard, and time will be skipping around somewhat between each chapter, but I don't have a definite timeline, other than Mallory's death being in 1996 as that's when I found a historical car bombing incident that was vague enough to be plausible. xD