What had he done to deserve this? Rollo tottered back to the rock and sat down, heavily. Of all of Odin's daughter's, he'd got her.

Somewhere, deep inside him, the voice of reason was suggesting that refusing her help, might have been a stupid idea, but he allowed his anger to silence it. If he was going to heal, it would be with without her help. And he'd rather have half a life knowing that she was suffering, than help her return to her father's side.

"Fuck." His staff, that in his anger, he'd dropped carelessly onto the sloping surface of the rock, slid out of his grasp into a gully filled with just enough flowing water to carry it into the fjord. "Fuck."

He refused to turn at the sound of fluttering wings, behind him. "I don't need your help."

"Good, because I wasn't offering." She wandered to the water's edge and watched the staff bobbing on the surface. "I'm sure you can manage without it."

A fresh wave of anger surged through him. "Leave me alone, Valkyrie. I'd rather die on this rock than accept any help from you."

"No. I think I'll stay here." She glanced up at the gathering clouds. "At least until the rain comes." Daintily, she sat on a low, flat, boulder and folded her hands in her lap. "I've never met a man as foolish as you. Although, of course, the only men I've met, are brave warriors, who have earned their seat in my father's hall."

"Why you..." He actually managed to take a few steps before his legs remembered they didn't work, and he pitched, face first, onto the sharp shingle, knocking what little breath he had left, out of him. He closed his eyes, as pains he'd forgotten re-awoke. "Fuck."

"What a pity you didn't ask." She stood and walked towards him. "No matter, I'm sure someone will come by here before dark."

If he could just take a breath, and move his useless arm... Rollo gasped and willed the leaden limb to move. "Leave... me...alone."

Crouching next to him, she brought her face close to his. Rollo sucked greedily at her breath as it ghosted past and she laughed. "You need me, Rollo Lothbrok. Admit it." She parted her lips and moved closer. The cold left his bones as he was enveloped in a warmth that he'd never thought he'd feel again."Do you really want to end your days like this? Cold, alone and gasping for breath, floundering on the shingle, like a stranded salmon." As she sat back, the cold poured back into his body. "The fires always burn in Valhalla. Such a shame you will never feel them."

"Valkyrie."

For a moment, he thought she hadn't heard him. Then smiling, she brought her lips to his. Rollo brought his right arm up and ran his fingers through her hair. Summoning what little remaining strength he had, he forced her head closer.

Her breath wasn't hers to give.

It was his to take.

Life surged through him. Rollo roared as a thousand burning spears pierced his body, and his blood boiled and frothed like the rivers of Muspell. He would take all she had. He would... the air thickened and she fell from his grasp, leaving him holding just a feather.

She half hopped, half flew, just out of reach, and collapsed, panting heavily with her wings outstretched. Ignoring the pain, Rollo pushed himself to his knees and picked up a rock.

~o0o~

No no no no no no no no no no

No

She would not let him take…

She would not let him take all he wanted.

She would not let him insult her and then pull her close…

She would not…

Would not…

She would not let him make her weak. And yet, she was unable to find the strength to make her wings to bear her to the sky. He had taken too much. He had taken more than she had been willing to give.

Still disorientated from the exertion of having her essence stolen, Kara could not move quickly enough to avoid the rock that Rollo launched in her direction. It glanced off the tip of her wing. Her squawk this time was not one of indignation, it was one of pain.

The ignorant bastard sought to steal his health from her, and then to hurt her. Feeling small and insignificant, in ways that she wasn't at all used to, Kara changed again. She crouched on the shingle beach, tucking her knees under her chin, and examined her aching wrist. It hurt, the skin was red across the joint, but she could move it. She circled her hand, biting her lip to keep from crying out. It was sprained and would bruise, but it was not broken.

"Did I hurt you Valkyrie?" His voice dripped with venom. "Can you not heal yourself?"

Kara had never felt pain before. She was a child of the gods, and had always believed herself impervious. But that had been before Rollo had stolen her essence and left her weak. She dared to raise her eyes as he tried and failed to get to his feet. The foolish man had believed that by taking all she had, he would become whole again.

"Can you die?"

Truthfully, she did not know. But she knew that if she did, so would he. Rollo had no need to to take that rope; without her help, the first sickness that the winter brought, would surely end him. He picked up another rock, and Kara experienced another new, far more unpleasant feeling. She was afraid.

She would not show it, though.

"You cannot kill me, Rollo Lothbrok. You need me."

His derision stung more than the rock had. "I need you? No, Valkyrie I don't think I do."

"Then take that rock, and cave in my skull." She snorted. "Oh, you can't can you? I may be weak now, but I will soon be strong again. Can you stand, Rollo? Even if the pain was bearable, would your legs hold you? Can you not feel my breath leaving your body?" Kara looked into those beautiful eyes. "Your pride is going to kill you."

~o0o~

It wasn't the first time that someone had told him that his pride would be his downfall. It wasn't the first time that someone would have been correct in that prediction. But that wasn't what made Rollo drop the rock that he'd picked up. He'd had every intention of lobbing it at the infuriating woman's head. He didn't believe that she wanted to help him, certainly she had done nothing, so far, more than torment and taunt him.

No, the thought, or rather the feeling, that loosened his fingers and let the rock slip back to its brothers in the shale, was the tingling that he could still feel across his lips. And, damn, if he couldn't feel it elsewhere, too.

On a miserable day like this when the clouds hung low and grey, wreathing the tops of the pines with mist, and the fjord was the colour of dull iron, everything usually looked washed out and bland. It was as if the incipient storm stole the colour from the world before it washed it clean. Everything seemed a little dimmer, everything except the Valkyrie crouched on the rocky beach.

She was watching him, the way a mouse would watch a cat. The grim set of those pink lips broadcast her obstinacy, but the way her blue eyes were wide and watchful told him that she knew fear. Regret was not an emotion that Rollo was used to; it was too bitter for his palette and he had no use for it. What was done was done, a man could only move forward. But seeing the way that she held herself tense, readying for another assault, made him regret his harshness… at least a little.

Rollo didn't see how she could be mortal, not if she could still shift forms, but it was obvious that she was not as strong as she had been. Perhaps it was likely that he could kill her. He rubbed his fingers over his mouth, turning the motion into stroking his beard before she could comprehend what he was doing. He didn't want her to know that she affected him in such a way. He didn't want to give her that power over him. She was already insufferably arrogant.

He didn't need her. He'd made his choice, he could end his life without her intervention or assistance. But with her essence singing through his veins, Rollo began to feel the first stirrings of the possibility that he might not always be crippled. Still, he didn't need the Valkyrie, he could heal without her aid, although it would be quicker if she would grant him help, if she would allow him to kiss her again. He didn't need her, but he did want her.

In the obstinate sprite crouched on the beach, Rollo saw the warrior goddess who'd leant over him on the battlefield. Those wide blue eyes were starling pools of colour in a drab world. Her hair was pale, almost totally colourless, and yet it seemed to glow. Rollo's fingers itched with the memory of the softness of those curls.

Rollo suddenly had a very clear vision of those silver ringlets laid out in disarray over his pillow, of those blue eyes closed against the intensity of passion, of those dark lashes sweeping over flushed cheeks…

Rollo coughed and rubbed at his beard. It was time to get his traitorous mind, and body, back under control. His first task might be to get off his knees though, because the small rocks the made up the beach were damnably sharp.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Valkyrie." This time he kept the sneer from his tone when he addressed her.

"Clearly." Her suspicion gave an edge to her voice.

"Yes. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

Those blue pools widened impossibly, allowing the suspicion to bleed out of them, as she realised he was right. On the heels of the realisation, her eyes narrowed again and the suspicion returned.

"Are you going to start throwing rocks at me again?"

Rollo grimaced, the stones were really becoming quite painful. "No."

She said nothing, she just stared at him. Rollo stared back, wondering when the fuck she was going to speak. He wondered if she had a name, or if she knew it, or if she'd suddenly been struck mute. And then he realised that she was waiting.

"I'm…" Fuck, he hated to say the words. "I'm sorry."

The Valkyrie didn't look mollified in the least. Rollo began to make peace with the idea that he was going to have to crawl over the beach and into the freezing waters to try and catch his crutch himself. He considered picking up another rock. If he did have to abase himself so, he didn't want any fucking witnesses. He dropped to his hands to take some of the weight from his knees, which were screaming in protest, and almost cried out, as fire roared along his left arm.

It was the rustle of the shale that made him look up. The Valkyrie was still cradling her wrist, but she walked into the water, which surely was of a temperature to make any man wince, without blinking. She released her injury, but kept the damaged limb close to her chest as she reached out to catch his staff. It bobbed once, away from her stretched fingers, but she caught it at the second attempt.

Rollo watched the woman carefully as she brought his staff back to him. There was every chance that she would swing it and hit him around the head with it. It was a sturdy length of wood, if she did that, it would hurt. Rollo braced himself for the impact.

But the blow never came.

She stood tall and proud before him, as he knelt pathetic and alone at her feet.

"My name is Kara."

And then she handed him his staff.