Chapter 15
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The black crows are loaded
With the call of things discarded
The ribboned shard of battle
And everything burned
Have they forgotten we live here
Do they think that we gave up
Lay down and grew over
Weeds at every turn…
….I will not rest
Until this place is full of sunlight
Or at least until the darkness
Is quiet for a while
And we will not wait
For that murder to come calling
The night will simply fall
And the morning will rise
Oh sweet peace, never have you fallen
Never have you fallen upon this town
Oh sweet peace, when will you come calling
When will you come calling upon this town
The Wailin Jennys "Avila"
A/N: Thank you for your support for DSR-- for sticking with a fic that orbits the Sookieverse so distantly. I'm honored by your messages, reviews and by your story alerts and fav listings. I couldn't ask for more wonderful readers.
I also couldn't ask for more wonderful betas. AmaZen & FDM, you push & encourage me and are absolutely honest about what I give you. Thanks for putting up with me and for making me a better writer! AmaZen handled this chapter solo.
The belief re fireflies is part of Japanese folklore. Re woad the indigo type dye that marks Kirs & Z: LOL imagine being decorated like an extra in "Braveheart": limed hair, bright blue swirls on face and body. I chose to use the rune Thorn for the blόt because Thorn is a force of simultaneous defense and destruction. The rune is symbolic of brambles or thorny bushes which were used to enclose and protect boundaries or to conceal entrances to sacred or secret spaces. Y'all are experts on fullrettirsorð. New term: A holmgang is a duel. A seax is a Viking knife, a spatha is a Viking sword.
As always CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone.
Wisps of mist rose like phantoms from the moist earth and curled around fallen trees and dripping brambles. Beneath the dark canopy of hickory and live oak fireflies hovered and drifted; silent, phosphorescent sparks above the damp, lush undergrowth and dusky trunks surrounding the small spring and glade. Kirsten and Zeline watched them lazily blinking, on-off, on-off as they recovered from the Seiðr journeys taken in preparation for the blόt. Beyond the clearing where they would fight, the woods were filled with a chorus of chirring, chirping insects. Heat lightning flickered across the bellies of low-lying clouds. The air was rich with the sharpness of ozone, the pungent scent of damp earth and forest plants--innocent scents. The stench of blood and battle would fill the glade soon enough. It must; it was their wyrd to make it so. For the sake of the loved ones they had lost and the loved ones who were still here with them, they must channel their grief and anger into battle fury.
Kirsten felt the throb of Zeline's pulse in her fingertips where Z's hand clasped hers. With her free hand she brushed the waving blue journey line on her cheekbone. Zeline traced the slight raised pattern of her own seiðr marking, squeezed Kirsten's hand, and touched her cousin's mind.
…Kirs he's gone…he told me to be strong…that he was alright…and I know he is because I saw him…and he touched my mind…he said, "Go get them baby…I'll be with you even though you can't see me."
Kirsten transferred a thread of her immense energy reserve to her cousin, then cleared her throat and spoke softly.
"When Del and I were about eight, my mom and fadir took us out to catch fireflies. We caught so many they lit our jars like lanterns. I wanted to keep them, but mom said I had to let them go because it wasn't right to keep them. Then fadir said, 'You have to let them go älskling. Those who worship the beings called Kami say they contain the souls of soldiers who died in battle.' He opened the lid and said that they should continue on their journey. Kirsten motioned towards the glowing woods and grinned. "It's early for fireflies. Maybe they came to watch before they move on."
Zeline turned toward her cousin, her eyes slanted, cat-like. She fingered the bull-whip by her side.
"If they've come to watch, we owe them a good show. We've come this far. We'll kill this bitch, that fae bastard Ulswater, and all the other fuckers who killed my dad and hurt Del."
Kirsten met her cousin's eyes and nodded, "Yes. It's what we were born to do."
Finna Hrútsdóttir had told them that the great web of wyrd fixed a time for peace and a time for blood and that each individual tended one way or the other. Adele, with her aura of pure white light, was a woman of peace, it was her nature and strength to heal and bind. Her secret name, Sváss Brú, meant 'beloved bridge." Kirsten knew that her own essential nature, and Z's, were different. They were woman of blood, warriors--born to be the scalpels that sliced away the tumors threatening to destroy all that they held dear.
As silent as the mists, Finna stepped out of the darkened wood. Zeline and Kirsten rose, touched their foreheads and bowed before the High Gythja of the Aesir. Finna held each girl's gaze for a long moment, then nodded.
"It is well. No shadows from the other worlds linger in your minds."
Her face shone with a steadfast, serene peace.
"Daughter of Freya and Daughter of Hlin, you have traveled far and endured much to fulfill your wyrd and bring justice to bear. When I hallow and ward this ground and the witnesses of the inangard and the enemy combatant have gathered, there will be no turning back." Her clear gaze was as piercing as hot iron. "Are you still resolved?"
Both girls answered, "I am. For the sake of my kindred and for the sake of the gods I serve."
Finna clapped her hands and torches lit the perimeter of the glade. A second gythja --an older mortal woman with a powerful golden red aura --slipped out of the woods. She carried a small pot of blue woad and bowed deeply to Finna.
Finna nodded at her. "This is Sölveig--gythja of the Raven Kindred of Mississippi. She has agreed to assist."
Finna smiled. "Cleanse yourselves in the spring and then let us begin. We will mark you with runes of warding and bind your hair for battle."
Unseen drums throbbed hypnotically, accompanied by a beautiful but chilling chant as Prince Niall and King Toller entered the glade through twin rows of smoking torches. Tall and regal, Toller's proud face was almost expressionless. Only a shadow lurking in his eyes betrayed his fear for his beloved. Close behind him came Eric, one arm encircling Sookie's waist protectively, and then Pam, Marcus, Thalia and selected members of Toller's retinue.
Hal wes ôu, Hella
Lady of the Lowest World!
Hal wes ôu, Freya
Lady of the Vanir !
In the black moon
We dance
Hand to hand we dance
Soul to soul we dance
Sword to sword we dance
In your honor we dance
Sullen clouds hid the moonless sky. Smoke from the torches rose sluggishly to mingle with the thin veils of mist that clung to the edge of the clearing, captured by the electric magic of the powerful wards within. The very air thrummed with power. Sookie opened her mind and cast about desperately searching for her daughter and niece. But it was Eric who gently touched her mind through their bond.
You can't reach them now min älskar. They are warded, hidden from view, and deep in the grip of the goddess. You must be strong. If she can reach out to you, Kirsten must feel only your strength and confidence. Kirsten and Zeline are strong and the Aesir favor them. With the great ones' help, Kirsten will prevail. Adele will be avenged. The traitor will become her blόt offering and will be punished forever in Wyrmsele. We have raised our daughters to embrace honor, loyalty, fidelity and courage…to address conflict directly and intelligently...
Sookie smiled ruefully.
And I guess you're telling me that we have to practice what we preach!
Their eyes met. Eric's face was a calm, almost emotionless mask; a visage practiced over many centuries. Yet beneath his calm veneer, Sookie felt the current of his own fear for Kirsten and his furious desire for revenge. The group arranged themselves silently around the perimeter of the glade as Finna Hrútsdóttir and the human gythja emerged from the mists bearing a drinking horn. Toller's eyes locked on Eric who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Sookie closed her eyes, and checked a sigh of relief. She had only caught a thread of Eric's thought, If she falters, I will be ready, but it was enough. Toller and Eric would not let Kirsten die. They would break the blόt before seeing Kirsten slaughtered by the rogue traitor. The consequences of such sacrilege would be embraced with honor, if it came to that.
Finna took the drinking horn from Sölveig and looked around the circle.
"Tonight we gather to witness a blόt sacrifice in honor of the Lady Hella and The Lady Freya and through them, the gods we serve. This space has been hallowed by sacred song. Dark liquor brewed by your faithful followers fills this horn--dark as the soil of their ancestors, foamy as the churning water of our northern falls."
Finna lifted the horn high. "Holy ones, for you this drink is poured. Just as many grains and many drops of water joined to make this blessed drink, so are we one in spirit and desire tonight. I sign this horn with the rune Thorn, to enclose and protect. For tonight our champion is warded against danger-- never may she falter."
Cradling the horn in one arm, Finna drew the rune on the foamy brew. Several younger vampires hissed audibly as Finna drank from the horn without ill effect before calmly passing it to Sölveig. The human gythja drank deeply, and carefully carried the horn first to Niall and then to Sookie who gravely drained it.
Despite the solemnity and tension Eric's mouth quirked slightly. Don't worry.
Our little one is of warrior stock; he can handle a bit of blessed beer.
Sookie bit her tongue to stop a nervous giggle. Yeah…and if that beer is proof that the gods want humans to be happy, it's a helluva thing to offer tonight!
Happiness would not be part of tonight's agenda until she held her living daughter in her arms after the sacrifice. Beneath a tent of lowering clouds, the woods had fallen silent. The insects ceased their relentless buzzing as a breathless pall settled over the warded glade. All eyes were drawn to the far end of the glade as King Stanislaus' powerful form emerged from the mist leading a spare, muscular woman by a thin length of warded silver chain.
Sookie dug her nails into Eric's arm as his fangs ran out. He tensed like a hunting lion, blue eyes blazing and every nerve of his being fixed upon the female, who stared at him with cold, venomous eyes.
The gythjas raised their hands and murmured a binding charm in Old Norse. Stan was not gentle as he loosed the chains from Bothvild's smoking wrists. He wanted to rip the assassin to shreds, but turned to join Toller and Eric instead. Bothvild's flint-grey eyes flickered to Finna then struggled to slide away, but Finna held her gaze. Her brilliant blue eyes pulled at Bothvild's essence with a heavy power. Bothvild squirmed and twisted as Finna plumbed the abyss of her soul.
Still, Bothvild's lip curled up in a sneer.
"Do as you will…I will see you all squirming in torment and begging for death before the end…"
Finna's gaze was cold. "Be still Bothvild Eadgyth and hear the words of your gythja and law-sayer. I declare you outlaw--utgard. For your betrayal of the Aesir and allegiance to the Jotten, for leading a host of demons into our realm to make war upon your own kind, for your offenses against the King of this realm and for the defilement and attempted murder of Adele Ericdóttir, your life is forfeit. Kirsten Ericdóttir claims fullrettirsorð for the outrage you have committed against her sister and kindred."
Bothvild's face distorted with fanatic conviction. "Does she not know the prophesy? My Lord Loki's time is here. I cannot lose in battle. Centuries ago a seer far greater than you pronounced that a fledgling bird shall lead me to my Lord."
Her eyes burned with rage as she glared at Eric, then Stan, and Pam. "Even yon torturers could not stay my allegiance to my Lord! I embrace the rite of holmgang by any weapon or hand to hand. My sword shall sing and the young fool's blood will soak the ground. I kill in the name of my Lord Loki and the victory He grants me will prove his might!"
There was an audible "snick" as fangs descended all around. Eric's eyes blazed. Toller growled low in his throat. Bothvild's hatchet face contorted with hatred and her hands curved into claws. She twisted to find her enemies, but Finna commanded her gaze. The air throbbed with magic as Finna produced a Viking spatha and seax.
"Your soul is twisted and darkened beyond repair --rife with hatred, seared with pride; your kills are wanton or motivated by your service to an evil master. You are granted holmgang…"
Her eyes bored into Bothvild's.
"You are granted this rite as proof that your master and his minions will not prevail. You are granted this rite because it fulfills the Northman and Brigant kindred's claim of fullrettirsorð. You are the blόt sacrifice."
Finna handed the weapons to Bothvild.
"Behold the fledgling."
Lightning flashed. Eerie cries and jubilant ululations echoed through the clearing as Kirsten stepped through the curtain of mist. Kirsten Ericdóttir was transformed by battle fury. Like a hovering falcon intent upon its prey, she channeled an ancient savagery. Toller could not tear his gaze from the magnificent creature who advanced from the mist wearing nothing but a soft short kirtle of smooth, light buckskin girding her hips.
This lioness was neither Selin whom he had known in a past life nor the young aristocratic woman with whom he had fallen in love. This was a warrior from a fiercer time. With her Viking spatha, seax, and woad tattoos, Kirsten was a vision of her warrior heritage and a finer boned version of her father. Her golden mane was tightly bound against her scalp. Multiple braids were coated with lime and coiled against her head.
A single raven's feather bound with red thread fluttered behind her ear. Blue tri-spirals and protective runes flowed down her firm biceps, rippling muscles and the strong tendons that defined the contours of her athletic body. For a moment she was entirely still, knuckles white, tendons etched about her spatha's hilt. She was deep in the grip of the goddess; so deep that she had achieved the point of balance, a state of intense clarity and focus.
She advanced, silent and majestic as a panther, feeling power surge through her legs, back, shoulders and wrists. She raised her spatha to strike and swung downward with the agility and force of her thousand year old father as Bothvild screamed a battle cry and parried the blow. But Kirsten, as she twisted away, slashed undead flesh, and drew first blood.
The Wraith howled, then taunted, "Stupid girl, that scratch will soon heal!" as Kirsten danced away with a warrior's grace.
Sookie felt Eric's pride flowing across their bond, as her heart squeezed and she held her breath as the rogue flew toward Kirsten.
That was well done. Although the bitch does not realize it, Kirsten has ritually marked her with the first of the sacrificial runes --Thorn--the force that fights a foe.
Their swords flashed red in the torchlight, ringing and hissing as the combatants met and drew against each other. They flew at each other again and again. Over and over, each countered the other's lightning-fast moves. Kirsten grunted, jabbed. The Wraith's spatha dropped to the ground and Kirsten quickly kicked it to the side. Then she sprang at the Wraith, but landed with a thud on empty ground. Toller cursed. Finna silenced him with a stern glance, as they all remembered why Bothvild was called The Wraith.
Hair rose on the back of Kirsten's neck and she twisted to the right. Something grazed her cheek. A foot she realized, a foot trying to take her head off. It hit her hand instead with terrible force and knocked her sword away. Zeline, Kirsten's second, darted in to retrieve both swords. Once a blόt weapon was dropped it could not be used again.
Sweat ran down Kirsten's face and blood ran from her mouth. She knew that that could be the last mistake she'd ever make. Her enemy was every bit as skilled as she and had had centuries to perfect her moves.
She heard her mother gasp as her hand was caught from behind. She went with the hold, turning into it and bringing her leg up and out in a stunning roundhouse kick that went straight to The Wraith's solar plexus.
Bothvild's rib cracked with a satisfying snap and she went down hard, doubling over. Kirsten marked her a second time with the arrow rune of Tyr--for justice.
Sookie shuddered.
She'll kill Kirs if she becomes invisible again!
Eric touched her through the bond.
She can't use her gift again anytime soon. She's too depleted. She'll need all of her energy to heal her wounds and fight.
Still, Bothvild sprang to her feet. The realization that this fledgling was strong--that this might be her final fight-- only spurred the Wraith on to fight harder, faster.
Kirsten got in a couple more powerful hits, even heard something else crack. She was drenched in sweat…her hands stinging from the force of the blows they'd exchanged.
Block. Parry. Strike. Finally, Kirsten's rammed her knife upward between Bothvild's ribs and drove The Wraith to her knees. She stared at Bothvild with pitiless eyes.
"This is for Adele and my kinsmen. Bitch!"
With a powerful rip Kirsten opened the woman's chest and pulled out her lungs--the Viking Blood Eagle. As Bothvild shrieked in agony, Eric, Toller, Pam and Stan smiled cruelly and Kirsten screamed out her victory hlakka.
Finna touched Zeline, "Go to her. I'll collect the blood and consecrate it to the goddesses"
Bothvild stared into Kirsten's ice blue eyes. A flicker, then a flame of comprehension crossed her face,
Kirsten spoke quietly. Firmly. "Yes I really am the fledgling bird that will send you to the other world."
Zeline knelt beside her. Kirsten reached for her hand and placed Z's hand with her own on the knife's hilt and addressed the goddess Hella.
"Queen of Darkness
We hail thee now
Ruler of the Night
Do not welcome this traitor into thy hallows
Show her the pathway of shadows
To Wyrmsele where her judgment bides
To thy justice this soul I confide
And may our enemies take notice."
Kirsten paused. Zeline tightened her grip on the hilt, and growled.
"Now, go to Hel bitch!"
They drove the knife through The Wraith's heart, and then Kirsten opened her throat while Finna collected her dark blood. In the still night Kirsten shivered as she felt cool invisible fingers caress her cheek. The mists that had veiled the clearing coalesced and spiraled around the Wraith's corpse, drawing out a sooty black phantom that wailed thinly before sinking into the battle scarred earth.
Kirsten sank to the ground, head bowed and chest heaving. She had done it. She had avenged her sister and delivered her avowed sacrifice. No longer a fledgling, she was now a full Gythja and priestess of the Aesir. And though she did not see it yet, her father's eyes glowed with a ferocious pride.
Finna lifted the Hlautbowl, now filled with blood, and spilled some onto the ground as an offering to the Aesir. She then poured the dark blood into the horn, then offered it first to Kirsten.
"With this sacramental drink you claim your first blood meal and embrace your heritage before these witnesses."
Kirsten touched her forehead in deference, lifted the horn, and drank, while her vampire kindred watched with delight.
Then Finna passed the horn to Sölveig who bore it to Eric, Stan, Toller, Pam and the other vampires until it was drained.
A breeze rose and strengthened, driving the mist and The Wraith's ashes before it and rending the tent of clouds until the soft caul of the Milky Way flowed with a million stars above their heads. Sölveig brought Kirsten and Zeline to the spring to drink, wash and unbind their hair. Finna wrapped them in linen cloaks, crowned their heads with garlands of magnolia blossoms, and nodded to Sookie and Eric.
Sookie and Eric rushed toward Kirsten, who rose trembling with shock and fatigue as her battle fury ebbed. Yet joy shone in her eyes as Sookie caressed her face and projected all a mother's love and relief straight to Kirsten's heart. Eric placed his forehead against hers and murmured in the Old tongue, "My own…you did well…" They gathered Zeline into their embrace as well, holding the two maidens while the witnesses crowded round to offer their congratulations.
Finna stepped forward and the celebrants stilled.
"This is now a joyous night-- a night of victory that will be long remembered. Kirsten Ericdóttir has completed fullrettirsorð and delivered the blόt offering to the goddess Hella. She must now fulfill her promise to her patron, the goddess Freya. Toller Hammarskjöld step forward and join your beloved as the goddess wills."
Eric's hand tightened upon Kirsten's shoulder. Sookie searched her daughters eyes, touched her mind. Kirsten reached out so that they shared her peace and joy. For tonight, at least, there were no more shadows across her heart.
It's alright. Freya wants Toller and me handfasted…she demanded the gift of my…ermm…you know…as her blόt offering.
Eric looked slightly scandalized. "I understand min dόttir." He turned to Finna. "I cannot object to a ceremony ordered by my Lady Freya." His eyes fixed upon Toller. "But I insist upon a full formal ceremony when the current crisis is over."
Toller inclined his head. "It is only fitting to honor so glorious a bride with a ceremony befitting her station and renown."
Sookie searched Kirsten's face.
Is this what you want honey…Do you love this man? Are you ready to make this commitment…it's every bit as binding as a formal marriage.
Kirsten's face shone with steadfast peace and joy.
"Our souls are joined. When I'm with Toller, time and space don't matter. There are no boundaries because we're destined to be together."
Eric put his arm around Sookie. "We understand min älskling. We will always be a part of you."
Both felt joy and sorrow as Toller took his place at Kirsten's side and Eric placed her hand in Toller's.
Finna nodded, and began. "Good friends, gather round. We call upon the Lady Freya, kindler of desire, bringer of love, the always desirous and sensual lover, to be present here and witness the joining of Kirsten Ericdóttir and Toller Hammarskjöld."
"Know now, before you go further, that your souls have met again in this life. As you seek to enter this rite you will become a focus for the power that is raised here, and your ties will be strengthened. Understand, the knots of this binding are not made on this plane. With full awareness, know that within this circle you are not only declaring your intent to be handfasted before your friends and family, but you speak that intent also before your Goddesses and Gods. "
"As time passes, remember... like a star should your love burn brightly; like the earth should your love be firm. Have no fear, for the Gods are with you. "
She regarded them solemnly. "Do you still seek to enter this rite, to join of your own free will, and acknowledge before the Lady Freya the bond that is shared between you?"
They shared a gaze of unspeakable joy then answered with one voice. "We do."
Finna beamed and unsheathed her ritual knife."Face each other and hold up your left palms."
In a quicksilver motion she sliced their palms and bound them with a white cord.
"Now repeat these words of joining and binding,"
Heart to thee,
Soul to thee,
Body to thee,
Forever and always,
So mote it be.
Sookie watched her daughter and Toller repeat the words of binding and love. She squeezed Eric's hand as Finna held the lovers' cord-bound hands high in the air for the guests to witness.
The drums fell silent and the torches flickered out as Finna and Sölveig removed the wards and sprinkled water from the sacred spring around the glade. Sookie and Eric embraced their radiant daughter and new son in law then stood back as their friends and kindred crowded around the couple offering their congratulations. Soon they would disperse to their places of rest and the couple would consummate their union as the goddess willed. As she basked in the knowledge of Kirsten's happiness, Sookie remembered her own struggle to accept Eric as the true love of her life and touched him gently through their bond.
Heart to thee
Soul to thee
Body to thee
Eric's eyes brimmed with tenderness and passion as they met Sookie's and he completed the vow.
Forever and always.
So mote it be.
After all the sturm und drang
I thought this chappy should end on a sweet romantic Valentine's Day note
Lemons NEXT Chapter… [they're waiting in the wings]
Writing is hard work
(Especially when I've got Freya and Hella breathing down my neck !!)
Mmmmwah! This Chapter Is My Valentine To You
Give me a review valentine