New day, new chapter.
Thanks for all the favs and reviews. Here's the link to the 'explicit' version. Still working on it, but getting there. /users/Sulla_of_Rome
Enjoy.
Chapter 21
Blackwolf and Astrid were gone in the morning. Astrid left behind a note promising that someone, probably Luke, would be back in a week or so to check up on them. Shego wasn't sure she wanted anyone but Astrid. Ron was silent most of the day. Part of her wanted to tear into him over being so stupid, but she held back. One, because he was her Master and good girls didn't do that to their Masters. And two, because he'd been directly under Blackwolf's terrifying gaze, and Shego suspected that was lesson enough.
She suspected it had been perhaps too thorough a lesson when breakfast turned out to be cereal sans milk. She was pretty convinced when during their training Ron barely did more than go through the motions and only reacted with blind impulse. She was absolutely convinced when Ron served a lunch that was literally two pieces of bread with only mayo in between.
It took three days. She'd come at him with serious intent, and he'd broken. He screamed in terror and stumbled away from her, retreating and screaming till he slammed into a tree, at which point he curled up in a ball, screaming. She'd rushed to him, dodging his flailing arms, and pulling him into a tight hug, trying to keep him from injuring either of them.
He screamed till his voice was gone, he cried until his eyes were so dry a dessert looked wet. He kept repeating something over and over, unintelligibly between the screams until that too was silenced. He fainted, and she carried him into the house. His body was burning and she stripped him, applying soaked cloths over and over to try and cool him. He kept whispering something, but she couldn't make it out.
It took another two days for the fever to pass, and she finally heard what he'd been repeating. "Oh roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour! Roam the abyssal lands! The world is your prey! Slake thy thirst in wells of blood made by your own fangs! Oh Archleone! Oh roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour! Roam the abyssal lands! The world is your prey! Slake thy thirst in wells of blood made by your own fangs!"
He kept that up for another two days, while she tended him, wiping the sweat from his body, trying to keep him hydrated. She was so distracted by him, and exhausted from lack of sleep over worry and that damn mantra, she didn't notice the alarm go off for someone approaching.
It was the sound of the door opening that alerted her, and she instantly pressed herself in a crouch by the wall of the bedroom. Carefully, she looked into the living area, and spotted a young woman. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, then looked again. The girl was there, she was just what Shego would judge to be what every man's wet dream of a big tittied goth girl would be. Shiny, long black hair, alabaster skin, breasts that put Shego's own full pair to shame. Jet black clothes, stylish and fitting, complete with leather corset and silver chains. Heavy boots with thick heels that pushed her a bit over five and a half feet. A lovely, innocent face, decorated with black lipstick and violet eye shadow that made her purple eyes even more obvious. And, hanging from a loop on her belt, was a bearded ax very much like Astrid's hammer.
"Hello?" the girl called out in an angelic voice, "Anyone home?"
Shego thought about going out there hands blazing, but the Ron started screaming. "Oh Archleone! Oh roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour! Roam the abyssal lands! The world is your prey! Slake thy thirst in wells of blood made by your own fangs!" He howled, arching off the bed. Shego forgot everything and went over to grab him as he started to have what looked like a seizure.
The girl appeared in the door way and Shego looked at her, pleading. "Please! Help, we have to get him to a doctor or something!" she begged. Going to a hospital would instantly end in them captured, but she couldn't let him die, which he was going to do if the seizure got worse.
"Oh Luke, you silly boy," The girl said. Then she walked over and placed her hand on Ron's head. There was a violet light, and Ron slowly stopped shaking, the damned mantra fading from his lips. The girl started repeating something, and while Shego couldn't understand it, it sure sounded like a prayer. Ron collapsed, his breathing even, in what looked like a deep sleep.
The girl kept up the prayer and the light for a bit longer. Ron's face and body relaxed utterly. Shego watched, clutching him tightly. She jerked when the girl touched her shoulder.
"Come," the girl said with a kind smile, "Let's get some tea. He will be alright now." She turned and left.
Shego stayed with Ron a bit longer, but eventually when he seemed stable she went out to the living area. The goth girl gave her a kind smile and indicated the seat across from her. There was a steaming cup of some tea that smelled of cinnamon and cloves, and was utterly refreshing when she tasted it. She was still dead tired, but somehow her soul felt cleaner with each sip.
"I take it you're Shego?" The girl, who on second glance probably was twenty at best, asked with a smile. Shego nodded, unwilling to put down the tea. "I'm Heather."
"It's nice to meet you, Heather," Shego said after a moment. "I want to thank you for helping him, but I have no idea what you did to even start."
"I severed the connection." Heather said gently, "Between him and Luke."
Shego was sure she looked as confused as she felt. "Connection?" She asked.
"Your boyfriend, he has mystical powers?" Heather asked.
"He's my Master," Shego said, "and yes. He got hit with something that gave him mystical monkey powers a few years ago."
"Oh, Master," the girl got a dreamy look, "You're so lucky."
"I am," Shego affirmed. "You mentioned a connection?"
"Right," Heather said, "Connection. Luke has a mystical power as well, though it is completely different from monkeys." The girl giggled, violet eyes dancing. "He says he's had it from birth. Anyways, given the nature of Luke's gift, it's very easy for him to make connections, even when he isn't aware of it, and especially when his emotions get going."
"Well, that certainly happened?" Shego said softly. "About a week ago."
"Oh my," the girl said, looking worried. "How long has your Master been having seizures?"
"That was the first one," Shego said, a feeling of dread growing. "Ron, My Master, collapsed about three days after Luke and Astrid left."
The girls eyebrows shot for her hair. "Three days?" she asked, "And he only had a seizure just now?" Shego nodded, and the girl sat back looking impressed. "Your Master is very, very strong then. The connection was modest, but I've seen a few others that have been hit like that and they were lucky if they weren't seizing in the first day."
"Can you just tell me what happened?" Shego asked, "Please, is Ron going to be alright?"
The girl sighed. "Luke doesn't like me talking about it," she said hesitantly.
"Please!" Shego pleaded, her hands bursting into flames, "I've just spent the last several days watching the man I love suffering something horrible! What did Blackwolf do to him! Is he going to be okay!"
The girl held up a placating hand. "Okay, geez lady, calm down, I'll talk." She said with sigh. "Cut the fireworks, will ya?"
Shego doused her plasma with some effort and took her seat again. "I'm sorry, I just..." she said, and the girl gave her an understanding smile.
"Okay, first off, it probably wasn't anything Luke did," the girl said, "He can sort of control the power, but it's got a will of it's own. It's basically a symbiotic being attached to his soul. When he gets upset it tends to try and defend him. I'm not sure what it's called, he refuses to give me a name for it, but based on the chanting I call it Archleone."
Shego waited impatiently as the girl sipped her tea. "The chant honestly give the best clues to what it is, even though I don't fully understand it. Basically, it devours. Usually it's just spiritual or mystical things, but I've seen it actually eat...well anything if it wants, though that takes a lot out of Luke."
"Anyways, I suspect your boyfriend got Luke upset and in return the Archleone basically attacked in self defense. It saw Ron as a threat, even if just an emotional one, and decided to devour him and take his power for Luke." Heather said, setting her empty cup primly on the table. "What did he do anyways?"
"He was discussing Luke's antisemitism, and asked if Maggie had anything to do with it," Shego said, and the girl blanched, somehow managing to get even paler.
"Fucking Hela," the girl said, making a warding gesture. She glanced at the open bedroom door. "Fuck. Holy fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck you two are really fucking lucky."
"I don't feel lucky," Shego said, only the girl's terror keeping her temper from blazing. "And Ron certainly hasn't looked lucky the last few days."
The girl pierced her with violet eyes. "You don't understand," she hissed, "Luke must have some serious respect for your fucking idiot of a Master in there somewhere, because I've seen him shred people alive for bringing her up. Much less in a context like that. I've seen the Archleone do far fucking worse. Your Ron got off fucking light."
The girl got up and dug around in the fridge, coming up with two of the purple bottles. She popped the top off one, drained in one go, then hit the second and drained half of it before coming up for air. Shego decided not to ask about underage drinking. The girl finished off the second bottle and came back over to the table, collapsing in her seat.
"You have to understand," Heather said, "Luke isn't a bad guy. He's a little messed up, but he's not a bad guy. The Archleone is something else. I don't think it's even from our reality, or if it is, it's from our reality before it was this reality."
Shego gave the girl a skeptical look, and the girl blushed. "Okay, don't tell anyone, but I really, really like Luke," she said softly, "like really like. And he's been through so much, that I want to help him any way I can. The Archleone is something he can work with, but it's not under his complete control and after Maggie...either it got more out of control or he just stopped bothering on containing it as much as he had been. I suspect he used it to try and save her, and it got buff, so to speak. Then I found out I could find and break the connections that got formed, which meant I could help those accidentally attacked, but I had no idea what it really was and he barely tells me anything about it, so I had to study anything and everything I could."
"So half a year into my studies, I noticed they all chant the same thing your Master was chanting, and I noticed there was a cadence, a rhyme to how they all chanted it. Around that same time, I ended up going up against some followers of something called the Awakening Sleeper. They were sacrificing people to something, and while the connections were totally different, they were also chanting something and that chant had almost the same cadence and theme. Like, it was the same language."
"Well, why wouldn't it be?" Shego asked. She wasn't sure if she was humoring the love struck girl, actually believed her, or was going insane.
"Because the victims of the Awakening Sleeper were Swahili," Heather said, "They didn't speak English, at least not while under the effects. But it sounded, it felt, the exact way those struck by the Archleone do."
Shego decided she didn't want to think about it anymore. Or know more, if she could help it. "Will Ron be okay," she asked, softly.
Heather sighed. "I think so, if his will is strong and he has your support. He seems to have resisted better than most in the situation," the girl said, "but I can't make any promises. Many have gone mad even after I've released them, and more suffered great trauma. They spoke of a great beast, ever shifting, with maws of fangs that appeared and disappeared at random, made of shadow and darkness. He's gonna need you. I'll do what I can to help. Just please don't be hard on Luke about this."
Shego wanted to rage at the girl, that Luke had hurt her master and he needed to pay for it. But looking at the girl, she found the words stuck in her throat. It was obvious that the girl felt about Blackwolf the same way she felt about Ron, only instead of being with the man she was devoted too, she was forced be apart from him with no hope of ever being united.
"No promises," Shego said, "But my first priority is protecting my master from everything I can, not seeking revenge." The girl's relief was palpable.
"I can live with that," Heather said.
It took a day for Ron to wake up, and when he did he was in rough shape. Heather proscribe copious amounts of warm tea and honey for his damaged throat, along with soft but hearty foods to rebuild his lost reserves.
"What happened?" He asked Shego, his voice a harsh, raw whisper. "Last thing I remember was sparing with you? And then everything was fanged maws tearing into me." He shuddered, running his hands over himself as if checking for wounds.
"You were attacked," Heather said, gently, "By an automated defense Luke has." Shego had wanted to be honest, but Heather insisted the last thing anyone needed after what happened was to be told they were attacked by a Lovecraftian horror. "It was unintentional, brought about by great emotional stress."
Ron didn't say anything, just slowly sipped his tea. Shego kept close to him, a loving and loyal guard dog, letting him know he was safe. Intellectually she knew that was bullshit, and it weighed on her, but this was about Ron's feelings, not reality.
Reality could come later.
Turned out, Blackwolf had made the news again. Shego watched as Heather dreamily told them about how he was super cool and had been caught on camera fighting a bunch of GJ agents in Atlanta. The press was denied the full number involved, but the camera had made it look like dozens, and the suspect was still on the loose. Dr. Betty Director had even made a public press meeting calling for anyone with information come forwards. When a reporter had asked if this was related to the bombings of a GJ office prior, the connection had been flatly denied.
Heather had tried to contact Blackwolf, but never got a response, and decided to head over to check up on Ron and Shego at that point. The girl didn't seem worried about the lack of contact and explained that Luke often went around without any electronics to help prevent himself from being tracked. Shego had to correct her earlier assumption. Heather was way beyond 'in love' with Blackwolf.
Still, Shego found herself liking the girl, but felt a huge amount of pity for her. It had to be hard keeping up that cheerful attitude and optimism while being denied even the smallest amount of love from the man she wanted. It was annoying when Ron got stuck watching the girls giant tits though. She decided chocolate cake was forbidden while the girl was around.
Kim it turned out had made the news as well as GJ youngest special agent. She was leading a new team consisting of her, Will Du, and the members of Team Impossible, with the express purpose of hunting down Ron and Shego. According to Heather, Will had a couple of fancy new prosthetic arms which looked super cool. Shego found herself unenthusiastic about fighting them. Not that she didn't think Ron and her couldn't take them, but it would be a rather brutal fight and she found herself thinking back to the game of Mordheim Luke and Astrid had played. 'You can lose every battle, but win the war,' Luke had said, 'so long as your guys are in better shape than the other team. It might take you longer to get some stuff, and you might always be weaker, but at least you're alive to enjoy it.'
Ron had nightmares that night. And the next. And the one after that. During the days, he improved, and Heather kept using her light on him. But Shego got the impression this was not something he would get over soon, since every night he shook with terrors no matter how hard they fucked or how exhausted he was when going to sleep. So she stayed close, soothed his terrors, and made love to him him over and over, trying to keep him focused on the good things in life.
Their lives would pretty much follow a pattern for the next two months. Heather, Astrid, or on a rare occasion Luke, would show up about every week or two, hang out for a couple of days, then head back out. Ron was terrified of Luke, but kept it together with her help, and the two men even ended up having discussions that usually frustrated her Master. Luke it turned out had no interest in changing people's minds, or even if he was 'right' about things, but was accepting of explaining himself and happy to question anything. 'A memorial stone does not care what others think of its words,' Luke had said one evening when she'd mentioned it, 'it merely says what it says, and let's the world do as it pleases.'
A few weeks after Heather had first appeared, Shego sat at the little table with her and Astrid. Ron lay in the bedroom, sleeping after more treatments. Shego finally decided to ask something that had been bothering her for a while.
"So what is it with with Luke and the Nazis?" Shego asked. She idly stirred her coffee, making sure the creamer was evenly spread.
Astrid rolled her eyes, while Heather gave a sad sigh. "Do you wanna take this one?" Heather asked, sadly, "You know him better than I do." The giant blonde groaned and grabbed three beers before returning to the table. She cracked one open and chugged it.
"Fine," she said. Turning to look at Shego, she began. "You have to understand, in our religion one of the biggest fights is about 'racism' and how to deal with it." She gave disgusted sigh, "You'd think we could find something better to argue over, theological matters, the nature of the Gods, how best to make offerings and when. Which we do, don't get me wrong, we are a contentious people." She said.
"Like the Scots and the English," Heather said, "Or the Scots and the Irish, or the Scots and the Welsh, or the Scots and the French. Or the Scots and the Scots! Damn Scots, ruining Scotland!"
"You Scots are a very contentious people," Shego said, chuckling.
"You just made an enemy for life!" Heather yelled with a false snarl.
"Anyways," Astrid said, cracking open her next beer, "That's the biggest fight. The Catholics and Protestants split over the morality of indulgences and allowing lay people to read the bible. We got our faith shattering split over if our faith was for our people alone, or if it was for everyone except those who believed it was for our people alone."
"Huh?" Shego asked, confused.
"It's like this," Heather said, "If you asked most people if say Native Americans have a moral obligation to allow non-natives into their tribes and religion, most people would say no. Same with Jews, who can get very, very strict about not letting outsiders join. There are many Heathens who take the same view. We have no moral obligation to allow non-Europeans into our faith. They're not forbidden, you understand, but we don't have to let them in. Just like you can let people into your home, but you don't have to if you don't want to." She ran her finger along the rim of her tea cup. "But there are those who believe we do have a moral obligation to let everyone into the faith, no matter who they are, and a lot of those people also feel there is a moral obligation to remove the first group from the faith."
"Okay," Shego said, drawing the word out. "Like that Henry guy, what did Luke say he was? A Universal or Progressive?"
"Yeah, basically," Heather said.
"So, you can imagine how that latter group feels about the Nazis, and their use of Germanic and Norse symbolism." Astrid said, "They're absolutely livid. Some of them even insist we should cast aside large parts of our religion, symbolism, and even philosophies because the Nazis used them, despite the fact these things far, far predate that organization. Which brings us to Luke."
"Luke is the Jarl of Hel and Her realm, Helheim," Heather said, "It's the realm of the dead, but its especially the realm of the dishonored dead." She took a slow sip of her tea. "Well, a number of the nazis, and especially the SS, were worshipers of the Norse Gods, in one fashion or another. They were soldiers, warriors, or monsters, depending on who you ask, and they fought to defend their people, right or wrong. And can you think of anyone more dishonored for their sacrifice?"
Shego shifted uncomfortably and sipped her coffee. Heather gave her a knowing look. Astrid just gave disgusted sigh and drained her beer.
"I think he takes it personally," The valkyrian woman, "Not because he actually is a NatSoc, though I think he does agree with some of their views on things like usury, and he absolutely hates Marxists of any sort. It's because he views himself as a monster."
Shego blinked at that. Heather looked even sadder.
"So I think that may have something to do with it." Astrid said, "Partially he identifies with them, because they did monstrous deeds in the name of duty, and they've been denounced for doing it. Remember the discussion the other day, about genocide being immoral?" Shego nodded and Astrid continued, "Well, mostly because of Hel, his view on morality is that humanity legislate their morality. Something about how she judges the Dead. And since the vast, vast majority of those in 'power' not only support things like Marxism despite its genocidal outcomes, then humanity has decided that genocide is completely moral. So, to him, the Nazis aren't inherently evil for committing genocide. Thus if he can 'redeem' them in some capacity that may redeem himself." She cracked open the other beer. "And he gets off on making people angry, especially if he finds them to be morally hypocritical. When he was younger, he would absolutely troll the fuck out of people. It got pretty funny sometimes."
"I wish he wouldn't see himself like that," Heather said sadly. Astrid shot her a 'kid, you are far too fucking innocent' look.
Shego sipped her coffee. "I see," she said "Well, I can't say I like it or get it, but I suppose I can understand identifying more with the bad guys."
"Oh yeah," Heather said, looking up, "You're a super villain, or you were."
"For a couple years, yeah," Shego said. "Still would be..."
"What made you become a villain?" Heather asked, leaning forwards and resting her giant breasts on the table. Astrid looked at the girl and snorted, before drinking more beer.
"Well, I used to be a super hero," Shego said, "But, well, my oldest brother was the team leader and wasn't interested in listening to anyone else about what we should do. The people were grateful, but..." She trailed off. "You couldn't save everyone, and you couldn't save everything, so a lot of them got mad about property damage that either we did, or happened because we couldn't get there fast enough. Not to mention some of the fanboys and fangirls..." She shuddered.
"There was one girl, I have no idea what her deal was, but she was obsessed in the worst way." Shego continued, sipping her coffee. "I found her in our garbage, looking in our windows, stalking us, the whole nine yards. Initially I thought she might be an undercover GJ agent, but then I found her stealing some of my panties that I'd had to throw out after a mission, well I got pretty convinced that wasn't the case."
"Ewww," Heather said, "what did she even want them for?"
"No idea," Shego said, "I burned them out of her hands and chased her off. Of course then somehow rumors started spreading about me being a psycho and shit like that. There was even a video of me blasting them, which went viral. It blew over, eventually, but there was just so many people who viewed me as a monster or something that...well..."
"If you were gonna get the shit of being a villain, you might as well get the benefits?" Astrid asked, crumpling her empty can.
"Pretty much," Shego said, "The city covered some of the costs for our base and our equipment, but in terms of actual pay we had to get regular jobs. My brothers were lucky, they could hide their powers well enough to look like normal people, though the twins were too young to work. Well, I can't become less green. So you can imagine how well my ability to work a job went when things were great and I had nothing but 'fans' all around, and then how well it went after I started getting a rep..."
"That sucks," Heather said, tracing the rim of her cup as she looked at it sadly.
"So, after I had one too many people trying to get into my pants because of who I was, or try to get me fired for the same reason, I'd had it. Hego would just shrug and say it was part of the job, and Mego is a narcissist who didn't notice anything was going on. Eventually there were protests outside our HQ over my 'handling' of some villain and they wouldn't let me get inside, so after months of the abuse I gave in and started blasting. Got inside, grabbed my stuff, went freelance merc for whoever would hire me. Eventually hooked up with Draken cause he offered the best pay and benefits. Guy was a cheapskate, but he knew what I was worth and had no problem paying closer to it than most others." Shego said, sighing as she finished.
"Strange is the road fate puts us on," Astrid said sagely as she pulled another beer from somewhere and cracked it open. "We know not the plans of the Norn, but we live by them none the less."
At Shego's confused look, Heather giggled. "Ignore her," the goth girl said, "she gets philosophical when drinking and discussing the past."
"You ever miss it?" Astrid asked. "The hero biz?"
"Not really," Shego said, stirring her coffee. "I miss my family, especially my little brothers. I adored them. I knew I couldn't stay because of them though, because then I'd start associating them with all the shit and that would be even more unfair to them then me leaving like I did. But the actual heroics? No. I never wanted to be a hero. I just wanted to be a normal, successful girl. Get a degree, find a guy, build a life. Heroism was forced on me, and then it prevented me from having what I wanted. So I took my curse and made it work for me. Until it didn't, anyways." She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice at the end.
Heather gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "Look on the bright side," the goth said, "It might have been a twisty road, and you don't know where it ends, but you do have a chance at your dream." She glanced at the bedroom door, where Ron was sleeping. "That young man loves you deeply, and I believe he would love nothing more than to marry you, have children with you, grow old with you, and all that."
Shego slumped, tears pricking at her eyes. "We all know that won't happen." She said softly. "GJ will never, ever stop hunting us, will never stop hunting me. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with Ma-with Ron, and I will do everything I can to do that, but I'm not going to kid myself that it will be long enough to have anything with him."
Something flashed in Heather's eyes. A grim determination, so unlike the oddly perky goth. She squeezed Shego's hand firmly. "Never give up hope," the girl said, her voice hard. "Never."
A week and a half later.
"Are the nightmares any better?" Heather asked, her hand gently passing over Ron's head again. The soft, violet light flowing from it sank into him, and Shego watched as he relaxed slightly.
"No, not really," Ron said softly, his eyes closed. "I think I had fewer panic attacks during the day over the last week though."
"That's good," Heather said, running the light over him, this time in a different area. "That's very good."
Shego looked up at the goth girl's boobs, which blocked her face from where Shego was kneeling by Ron. Her head rested on his thigh, and his fingers gently massaged her scalp. Of course, 'fewer' was still several. Ron would lock up and start hyperventilating four to six times a day. Sure, that was better than ten, but it was still a lot more than she was happy with.
"When you have your nightmares, what are they?" Heather asked, working her healing magic slowly. "Are they just the fangs and maws, or have they changed?"
"Mostly those, yeah," Ron said, tensing slightly. "There may be others, but I don't remember them."
Heather spent a solid hour healing him, before collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs, breathing hard. The goth girl looked paler than normal, which was saying something. Her eyes were tired, but confident. "I'd say you're doing about as well as can be hoped," She said, "Certainly better than many whom I've worked to heal."
Ron didn't look that confident, but he nodded and started prepping dinner. Shego moved from the floor to the chair her master had vacated. She gave the girl a piercing look. Heather flashed her an okay sign and closed her eyes before tilting her head back.
"I'll do another session tomorrow morning before I head out," Heather said softly, "I'd stick around and do more, but I'm can feel a Call starting."
"A call?" Shego asked, resting her chin on her hands.
"Well, I think its different for each of us, but for me when there's a mission I must take I feel like someone is calling my name, leading me somewhere." Heather said. "They get more insistent the more dire the need. For Luke, half the time he just stumbles across something. Other times Hel or Mordgud will actually show up and brief him."
"Mordgud?" Shego said slowly, unfamiliar with the name.
"She's the guardian of Helheim," Heather said, "She does the same job for that realm that Heimdall does for the Aesir, guarding the bridge that's the only way into the realm." Heather smiled impishly, "Her name means 'great killer,' and I think she was a mighty warrior before she became a Goddess and started working for Hel. Probably not unlike you Shego, though with more murder and a lot less clothing."
Shego tried to imagine herself as a fantasy warrior like Sonja the barbarian. It didn't exactly fit her, but she imagined Ron would appreciate the outfit. Maybe she'd have to do something like that for Halloween.
"Sounds entertaining," Shego said softly.
"I think it was," Heather said. "Everyone thinks of the Gods as these staid, respectable beings who sit on thrones and administer godly stuff, but way back in the early days, they weren't that different from us. They would go on adventures, fight in wars, play tricks, uphold their oaths, lie and cheat. Luke says Mordgud was hired on as Hel's bodyguard to keep her safe while she learned the value of life, so she could know well what it means to rule the dead, and they became close friends."
"Huh," Shego said softly, "never really thought of it that way. I read a bunch of classical literature and Greek myths getting my degree, but it never struck me that the stories might be some of their literal adventures."
"Few people do," Heather said, "most don't believe the Gods exist, and figure they're fairy tails or allegories. And, too be fair, some of them weren't just events, they were fundamental shaping of the universe. Like how bad poetry came to be about."
"Oh?" Shego asked, curious.
"Odin stole the mead of poetry for himself," Heather said, an impish smile. "And he turned into an bird to do it, swallowing the mead and carrying it in his belly. But the mead's maker chased after him, intending to kill the All-father and reclaim his prize. In his haste, Odin shat out some of the mead to blind his pursuer, and thus shitty poetry was made."
Shego's hand flew to her mouth as she choked on laughter. "Oh, that's terrible," she said. Heather giggled. From the kitchen, even Ron snorted.
It was the first sound of joy or humor he'd made since the attack. Shego stared at him through her lashes. Maybe he was getting better after all.