"I could use a fresh bowl, please," Volla said, wiping her brow with her forearm and flicking her wet fingers into the basin. She flung the rag into the bowl as well. "And another towel, please."
Sif nodded and took the bloodied bowl away. When she returned a few minutes later with a bowl of fresh water and a clean rag, Volla smiled. "Thank you."
Sif nodded. "Of course. Are you certain you don't want one of us to attend to the wounds?"
"No, no," Volla said, wetting the rag and dabbing at the Jotun's neck with it. "My father took care of everyone in the village I used to live in. I've seen much worse than this."
The Jotun gave a sudden growl and his eyes flicked open. "You," he hissed.
"Yes, me. Now keep holding still. It was much better when you were out. I should have mixed up more of that nightshade." Volla dabbed at a large gash on his shoulder, causing him to give a roar.
"That hurts."
Volla scowled. "It will hurt a lot more when it gets infected."
"This never would have happened had you stayed here and followed orders." The Jotun tried to sit up, but groaned and hissed at the stinging sensation. He couldn't believe he'd battled the wolves and won.
"If you would have answered my questions, I wouldn't have been curious as to what was in the west tower." Volla stopped cleaning out the wounds and crossed her hands over her breast. "I don't have to be doing this, you know. I'm sure Sif wouldn't mind getting in there and digging around! She certainly wouldn't be working as gingerly as I."
"If you hadn't been so nosy, I wouldn't have had to save your life."
"If you wouldn't have scared me, I wouldn't have left!" Volla huffed in return.
The Jotun drew a sharp breath and sat silently for a moment as Volla continued her work. "I apologize for startling you. I didn't expect anyone in the tower."
The girl studied the Frost Giant's face. He seemed to be sincere. "By the way," she added, "thank you."
The Jotun gave her a quizzical expression. "For what?"
"I'd have been torn to pieces out there if you hadn't come. How did you know?"
"I watched you away." The Jotun watched as a small smile formed on the girl's face. He tried his best not to match it.
"That's bad luck, you know. In my village, you aren't supposed to watch someone out of sight." Volla pursed her lips and continued to dab at the wounds. They were extensive, but the Jotun didn't seem to notice. "Perhaps your eye is the thing that brought the wolves down upon me."
The Jotun could resist no longer. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps, but I dare say things turned out for the better, don't you agree?"
Volla blushed and continued to work at the inflamed flesh. "Shh, quit moving."
***
Thor sat back in his chair and the pub and ruffled his whiskers. Volstagg was, as always, at his side, and across the table from them was Asgard's gatekeeper, the mighty Heimdall.
"I'll tell it to you straight, Heimdall." Thor took a long draw of ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You know the girl, Volla?"
Heimdall gave a nod. "Yes, My Lord. She stays in the palace with your brother. A captive, traded for her father."
Thor's eyebrows shot up. "I did not expect that crazy old man to be telling the truth."
"What can I assist you with, my Prince?" Heimdall did not drink, but rather, stared intensely into Thor's face.
"That's exactly it, Heimdall. Volla traded places, you say, with her father. But that beast has no means of keeping her in the castle. He has no authority. Volla won't marry me, but if we imprison her father, I'm certain she'll come running. And for a price," he gave a wink to Volstagg, "I can help her out of her bind."
"You ask me to falsely imprison an old man, and a village healer, at that?"
Thor clapped his hands together. "Exactly, yes!"
Heimdall withheld a sigh as he bowed his head. "As you ask, Your Grace."
***
The magician haphazardly threw clothes and potions into a pack. "I'm coming, Volla. That monster won't touch you. I may be coming alone, but help is on its way." He threw the bag over his shoulder and ran for the back door toward the stable.
In the front yard, Heimdall heaved a sigh as he headed up to the front door. "By authority of the Prince Thor, I am to seize you and escort you to the dungeons." He pounded when no reply came. "I am under orders, old man." Closing his eyes, he got a snap of the old man on the horse, pounding through the forest. "Orders," Heimdall repeated with a sigh, standing at attention near the front door. He was bound by the prince's order and could not leave until he retrieved the old man from his house.
***
The next morning, Volla feasted on fruits and pastries at breakfast. The cook beamed as she ate hungrily.
"Volla, perhaps you'd like to look at the wardrobe I mentioned?" Sif suggested. "It would be a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, I think. Not that there's anything wrong with your dress, but something new would be nice, no?"
Volla began to nod enthusiastically before the Jotun cleared his throat. "I had rather hoped I could spend the afternoon with her, if you don't mind, Lady Sif."
A smile passed her face almost too quickly to notice. "Of course, My Lord. Volla, we can play dress up any time. Just let me know when you'd like to."
Nodding, Volla agreed. She studied the Jotun. He'd gone back to eating and didn't spare her another look.
"Might I ask what activity you have in mind for this afternoon?"
"You should really address him as Master," Hogun mumbled to her.
"No need, Hogun," the Jotun replied breezily. "She is a guest, not a servant. My condolences," he added, chuckling as his guards stiffened. "There is something I wanted to show you."
"Now I'm curious. Must we wait for this afternoon? Can't we go now?" Volla sat her fork down.
Fandral beamed at the Jotun as he stood and extended his hand. "Certainly. I dare say you'll love it."
****
"Close your eyes."
Volla made at face at the Jotun. "You brought me all the way here to close my eyes?"
"It's for the surprise." The Jotun had led the girl all the way to the East Wing, to an area of the castle she hadn't stumbled upon before. Now they stood before a set of tall gold doors. The Jotun watched eagerly as Volla reluctantly shut her eyes. "Okay, good. Keep them closed." The doors gave a groan as he pushed them open.
"Can I open my eyes?"
"No! You're quite the impatient girl." The Jotun laughed. "Come in, but keep your eyes closed." He led the girl into the room and let her hand drop. He reached toward the windows and magicked the drapes open. Light spilled into the room and illuminated the countless shelves and vials upon them. "Okay, now."
Volla opened her eyes and gasped aloud. "Oh, my gods! I had no idea. An entire apothecary in the castle?" She gave the Jotun a look of utter delight and ran to the shelves. "Oh, the salves and potions I can make! There are things here I thought didn't exist anymore!" She scanned the labels on the shelves and felt her cheeks twitch as she beamed so hard.
"I thought you may be interested in what we had stored away here." The Jotun chuckled at her girlish excitement. "Do you truly?"
"Oh, this is wonderful," Volla breathed. "Sprigs of dragon's scales? No, surely not, really?"
The Jotun laughed once more. "Yes, it is indeed. Anything your heart could desire or any ingredient a recipe calls for can be found in this apothecary."
"This is exquisite," Volla cried. "Absolutely amazing."
"Then consider it yours."
Volla stopped and whipped her head to study the Frost Giant, still lingering just inside the doorway. "What?"
"The apothecary and all of its contents. If you want to redecorate, or bring in different working tables, or if you need any additional mortar and pestle sets, feel free. This is all yours, now."
Volla's jaw dropped agape. "Thank you, truly."
"Knew it would work," Fandral whispered in the hallway.
"Oh, you did not," Sif replied. "He'd have done it on his own, anyway." She peeked into the apothecary again before quickly poking her head back out and covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh, she hugged him."
"Tick tock, my lady. You'll be back in that fine metal corset before you know it." Fandral winked and chuckled, even as Sif clocked him in the throat.
