A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter...all of my followers have been so wonderfully supportive, sticking with me as I procrastinate and suffer from my undying writer's block. Thank you.

I give you, at long last, your chapter.


Cass stared at the ceiling.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since that fateful ball, and two weeks since...everything else.

It wasn't dawn quite yet. It was still dark, but she heard the sounds of quiet movement outside, where she knew the courtyard was. Most likely the kitchen was bustling with movement as well. But in the slave room it was s


ilent. It wasn't time for them to get up yet.

She knew exactly what was wrong with herself. But of course she didn't want to face it. Sometimes it was better to run away from problems instead of trying to wrestle with them. Besides, Cass didn't have the resources or the luxury of time to be able to deal with her...situation. If she tried to, she might start crying, or screaming, or throwing things, which were all good and lovely things to do when you were angry or sad, but not things that slaves were able to do. She would be punished if she stepped out of line. And she tried to avoid punishment at all cost.

Was this depression, then? It was a new sensation for Cass. Even when she had been taken away from Loki the first time she hadn't been depressed. Heck, sure, she had been miserable, but she had been a child then. The dark cloud of sadness left, and she could forget and recover over time.

But how could she forget this? How could she forget how close he had been, how close she had been. How could she forget the light spring breeze kissing her skin as he lead her on his arm through the Royal Gardens? How could he forget the way he had held her, as if she was something precious? How could she forget anything?

She couldn't. That was it.

"...and I can't believe that little ludder stole him right out from under my nose!" Lenora finished, furious. She was lying on her back on her bed, ranting incessantly about the ball where "her prince" had been snatched form her by a "ridiculous, low-standing coquette" (Cass quoted).

The slave didn't flinch, even though she knew she was talking about her. She had been called worse. If anything, the names gave her a slight tingle of pride; she had possessed something - no matter how fleeting - that Lenora hadn't been able to get her claws on. It was immensely satisfying. "I'm so sorry that that happened, milady," she murmured in a demure fashion as she collected various pieces of clothing strewn about the bedroom. When her back was turned she rolled her eyes. Cass had been treated to the same story over and over again for the past week or two, and was starting to get bored of it, even if it was about her.

"I mean, the girl has no right to what as already mine! I told her off, you know," Lenora added, reproachfully, examining the polished semicircles of her nails.

"As you should have."

"I know! From now on I'm sure she knows to keep her hands off. It's not like she has the social standing that I have, anyway. I doubt I shall see her again."

Cass glanced at her reflection in Lenora's mirror. At the noblewoman's lovely clothes and tame beauty achievable by all of those who spent time in the luxury of nobility. And then at her own drab brown dress; a mark of shame. The mark of a slave.

"I doubt you will, milady." She replied.


"Quickly, Cass, come on."

"I'm coming quickly." The slave replied almost crossly, bunching the skirts of her dress so that she could walk faster. But behind her irritation was a cloud of worry and apprehension. She ducked behind a tapestry and up a hidden flight of stairs, at the heels of an older slave (About her age? Maybe younger?) named Anne.

"I left Ioa with her...I couldn't make head or tail of the injury or how bad it was, there was just too much blood and the poor girl wouldn't let me touch it." Anne explained as they took the steps two at a time. She also sounded worried. Cass cursed under her breath, quickening her pace.

"Who was it this time?"

"Kaola."

"Ah, den drittsekken!"

"I know."

"What did she do?"

"I believe she was carrying a glass of wine up to the mistress-"

"More wine?"

"-and tripped on some clothes left on the floor of the bedroom. The glass broke. So the mistress fetched the slaver and had her...punished."

They had reached the attic by now, both slaves panting slightly. Cass brushed a bead of sweat from the back of her neck and pushed open the door, bracing herself for the grisly scene that undoubtedly awaited her.

A grimace alighted itself on her features as her hunch proved correct. A dark-haired girl - Kaola - was lying prostate on a pile of rags in the corner of the small room, while Ioa crouched over her, dabbing gingerly at a series of scarlet-dripping gashes on her back with a piece of bloodstained cloth. The injured girl whimpered and Ioa looked at a loss. The look that she gave the two older slaves as they rushed in expressed clear relief.

Cass rolled up her sleeves to her elbows, narrowing her focus down only to the situation at hand. "Anne, I need you to go to Morwena. Ask her for some herbs to held keep the wounds clean. Ioa, I need a fresh rag and some more water. Asbel is outside; he'll help you draw water. Be discreet and quick."

Both slaves nodded and dashed past her to get to the stairs. Cass listened to the echo of their feet on the steps before closing the door again. Then she knelt by Kaola's side.

"Who...who's there?"

"It's Cass, sweetheart." Cass lowered her voice and gently stroked the girl's arm, and she whimpered again. "It's okay, I'm going to help."

She finally examined the girl's wounds. They looked to be a little more manageable up close; most of them seemed rather minor, but there were a couple big gashes that went from her shoulder to hip that might cause a bit of trouble. Cass mouthed another swear word (she didn't want to say it aloud for fear of scaring Kaola) and wished that she had sent Anne to bring her a needle and thread as well. She would also need ice to help numb it...

"Is it...really bad?" The girl was barely conscious, poor thing. Her dark eyes fluttered open and then closed again as she struggled for cognizance.

Cass somehow managed to lie between her teeth. "No, sweetheart, it's going to be fine. You've landed yourself a pretty little cut, but I'll stitch it up with no problems. You just need to hold out for me, okay?"

She managed an imperceptible nod, just a bare dip of her chin, before speaking. "I don't know what I did to...to deserve it."

"You didn't deserve it, honey." Cass reassured her forcefully. "You don't deserve to be beaten like an animal."

"No...I mean I don't know what I did to deserve being so clumsy. I shouldn't have tripped. I knew that I would be lashed if I did. But I was so focused on not spilling the wine, and I was so sure that I wouldn't spill it that I wasn't looking where I put my feet, and I fell." She cried out in sudden pain and gripped the cloth beneath her until her knuckles turned white. "I don't want to be clumsy anymore, Cass." She said miserably. "If I wasn't so clumsy, maybe I wouldn't be whipped so much."

"Oh, sweetheart..." Cass stroked her black hair, tears in her eyes. "It's not your fault at all." She took of of her hands and held it in her own, squeezing it. "They're just blind. None of them would recognize even a valkyrie if they had danced in front of their faces."

Kaola slowly nodded her head in agreement. "That's right. You're a valkyrie, and they still hit you."

"Kaola..."

"No, you are. You protect us." Her eyes were closing again, and Cass realized that her body was shutting her down for reconstruction. Too much pain for the conscious mind to bear. "You're our valkyrie. Don't leave us, Cass, valkyrie av slavene, beskytter av de svake, vokteren av den tause."


"Quickly, Cass, come on!"

Cass inwardly sighed. Isn't it strange how the same exact words came be said, with completely different meanings?

Like now, for instance. This time, all she felt was annoyance, and no small measure of exasperation. Slowly, tiredly, she turned around, to be faced with Lenora.

The noblewoman instantly set her on edge. The flush to her cheeks, the light in her eyes...all of it didn't bode well for her.

"Thank the gods I found you in time! Where Do you go off and hide all the time that I don't need you?"

Cass looked down at the wooden bucket of dirty gray water in her hands, and then back up at Lenora. She couldn't help but inject a frosty note to her voice. "Absolutely nothing, m'lady."

Perhaps it was uncalled for. Perhaps her venom was ill-directed. But she couldn't help it; the image of Kaola's stricken body - bleeding from a dozen places and bruised in a dozen others - was too fresh in her mind. The treatment hadn't been easy, and even now the girl was at risk of severe infection, perhaps fatal.

Cass tried not to glare as she peered into the amber eyes of the noblewoman. It was you mother that did that. It was your mother that whipped an innocent girl for tripping on her damn clothes.

Lenora, of course, didn't notice any of this, only waved her hand impatiently, gesturing for her to follow. "Well, never mind that. We have something of real importance to prepare for."

"Oh, and what could that be, m'lady?"

"Well...it really is an amazing thing, although not altogether surprising if I'm quite honest with myself." She gave a tinkling laugh and Cass found that she hated the sound. "It seems we shall be paid a visit tomorrow. A visit from a most high-standing young man that undoubtedly wishes to court me."

"Oh? Who?"

"Prince Loki Odinson."


It was funny how a day - just a simple twelve hours - could bring about total and complete change in one's life.

For example, in the morning Cass had felt "depressed", a sort of suppressed sadness and misery. A dull kind of grief.

And now, she simply felt...nothing. Absolutely nothing. She felt hollow inside, like her insides had been scooped away and replaced with nothingness.

But surely I should be feeling something. She thought. Confusion. Sadness tenfold. Anger, perhaps. But there is nothing to give me solace in my darkest moments.. She sighed, her breath making her blanket flutter. Typical.

Crickets crooned sadly from outside. Cass heard them through the barred window and glanced towards it, and to the moonlight spilling gently on the sleeping figures inside the slave quarters. Ioa's hair was made to look gray in the silver light. She caught a glimpse of Anne, curled into a ball in the corner.

Someone shifted at her side, and she looked down to see Kaola, huddled into her side, arms around herself to preserve warmth. Here, Cass could only see the bandages wrapped around her torso, starched and white as funeral lilies.

And she decided that she did feel something, lying down in that room with her fellow slaves, all people who had been dealt irreparable damage and pain by Fate. She decided that she did feel something, cheated out of a friendship that should have lasted her a lifetime, reignited for a moment only to be put out and snatched away from her by someone she hated. She decided that she did feel something, clutching to her a girl that had regarded her as an angel, sleeping among people who probably also saw her as an angel.

"Valkyrie av slavene, beskytter av de svake, vokteren av den tause."

She decided that this wasn't nothingness she was feeling.

It was more like peace.

Tomorrow would bring her hell, but tonight she could sleep.

A/N: Well, I do hope you enjoyed that. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long to finish. Please remember to review!