AN: Hey guys! Sorry this took me so long, but I've been trying to figure out how to incorporate Tove into the rest of the episodes. I think I've figured it out. So, let me know what you think, and enjoy!
Chapter Five
Hours had passed. At some point, the sky began to tint with pale blues and purples, signifying the coming day. Chernobog hadn't settled. He might not have been the Great Black Beast that Disney made him out to be in Fantasia, but he was no less terrifying. It was a strange sort of power he held, an overwhelming foreboding that was too big to classify. He was a powerful Old God, even at his age.
Dead Wife hadn't stopped pacing, either. She kept mumbling about finding Shadow –we have to find Shadow, she would repeat over and over. Salim-Not Salim didn't speak while she grumbled. He kept his head primarily down, but would glance periodically in her direction. The Djinn might have been hidden behind his sunglasses, but his expression remained annoyed. It hadn't changed since he'd met her, honestly.
From left to right, left to right she would walk across the front of the diner with her eyes focused through the window. Something the others couldn't see held her attention.
Wednesday was seated in a booth listening to Chernobog rant, switching between an old Slovak dialect and English. He cursed whoever killed his sister, cursed the humans who'd forgotten about them, and cursed Wednesday for getting her involved. Wednesday remained silent the whole time.
Mama-Ji was in the back with a few others fulfilling the orders of those who could and wanted to eat. Mad Sweeney was still drinking and Tove was sitting on the back of the booth not far from the leprechaun. She was leaning forward staring through the wide window much like Laura, but her vision didn't linger on one thing in particular.
By the time the sun had risen, Chernobog had lifted his sister into his arms and took her outside to his truck. Nancy and Wednesday followed him. Mama-Ji joined as well once she'd dropped off the breakfasts that had been ordered.
They spoke outside briefly while storm clouds gathered in the sky. Dead Wife banging her fists into the glass brought Tove back to the moment. Her icy-blue gaze drifted to the animated corpse.
"What's the plan?" She yelled through the pane. Wednesday waved his hand calmingly at her, silently telling her to be patient.
Laura grumbled loudly once more as she returned to the others. "This is bullshit." She snapped. "Shadow's been taken."
"Let them lament." Sweeney replied as he chewed on his pancakes. "There might not be any comin' back for tha' one."
"Yeah, no shit." Laura said flippantly. "She's dead."
"You should stop speaking." Tove said in a subdued voice.
"Look," Dead Wife didn't heed the obvious warning in the Valkyrie's tone. "I'm sorry your friend got shot, but we have more important shit to deal with. She was old as dirt anyway."
The eyes of a handful of mythical beings drifted toward the towering young woman. Tove slid easily off the back of the booth, her feet landing on the diner's tile floor without a misstep or dip in height. With her gaze fixed firmly on the corpse, Tove glided across the room until she stood just before her.
"You should stop talking." She repeated. "Before I lose my patience."
Laura, either too stupid or too proud to listen, stared up at the much more intimidating creature with defiance. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one leg, popping out her hip unnecessarily when she did.
"We need to find Shadow." She said for the hundredth time or more. "I don't give a shit about some old, haggard-"
Her words suddenly stopped, caught in her throat while her mouth hung open. Mad Sweeney may have been the closest, but he couldn't see what had suddenly prompted Laura's silence. Out of the corner of her eye, Tove saw him lean back to watch, but her focus was primarily on the body.
The flat of her hand was pressed against the center of Laura's chest. She hadn't punctured the corpse, hadn't struck her or harmed her in any real, noticeable way, but there was an undeniable look of fear and pain painted across Dead Wife's features.
As Tove withdrew her hand, a dull grey, pulsing mass began to emerge from the center of Laura's chest.
"Do you feel that?"
Tove's words may have been little more than whispered, but they slithered through the air to meet the ears of all those who surrounded her. Laura's eyes, so wide and so milky with death, were saturated in terror. She struggled to gather a single, unneeded breath, but Tove didn't relent.
"Does it hurt?" She asked in the same delicate tone. "Look at it."
Somehow, Laura managed to drop her gaze and see the mass that Tove had taken from her, the mass that hovered just outside her body. Whatever it was looked sickly and wrong –anemic. Tove hadn't pulled it out completely. Instead, it lingered where it was, half in and half out, eliciting the most pain from Dead Wife.
"This pathetic little thing is your soul." She said. Her tone was nothing but condescending. "Not much to look at, is it? That coin might bind it to your shell, but make no mistake," Tove leaned forward just a bit, ensuring that she had Laura's full attention. "I can still rip it out of you if you piss me off."
Laura didn't respond. It was possible she couldn't and Tove, still angered by the night's events and Dead Wife's previous comments, decided to continue to taunt the woman. Still holding firm to the darkened soul, Tove squeezed her hand and twisted. Laura responded instantly.
She continued to taunt her, to inflict whatever pain she could given the shell couldn't feel anything. Tove was content to even tear it from Laura, until, she heard her name.
"Tove,"
It was Sweeney's voice, calm and disappointed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him looking at her blankly, his cheek distended with food. Tove clenched her jaw. She looked back at Laura, arched a brow, then shoved her palm forward. Laura took in a long, loud breath and stumbled back under the force. She coughed and clutched as her still heart.
After a little while, she looked up at the Valkyrie who towered over her by a foot. Finally, Tove saw the appropriate level of fear.
Mama-Ji suddenly entered the diner and gave the Djinn his instructions. When it came to light that he would be the one retrieving Gungnir, both Sweeney and Tove were angry.
"Gungnir?" Laura asked as she pointedly avoided Tove's eye.
"His fuckin' spear." Sweeney growled. He threw his napkin down angrily and rose to his feet. The giant charged through the doors to the diner, his exit narrated by the small, insubstantial bell above the door. Tove followed and behind her she sensed Laura. "Yer sendin' fiery-eyes and the fuckin' fairy for the spear?"
"What are you doing about Shadow?" Laura demanded almost the same instant. She was like a broken record, repeating the same thing over and over. Perhaps she needed a sharp punch so the record could continue on.
"He'll be fine." Wednesday never skipped a beat or sounded even remotely worried. "Great battles require great preparations." He slid his hat onto his head then sat in the driver's seat of his car.
"And sacrifice to you." Nancy said smoothly.
Laura, apparently fuming, confronted Wednesday about his lack of interest in saving Shadow's life. The old man remained as calm and casual as he always was, deflecting her questions and accusations with a practiced ease.
It became clear a moment later that Mr. Nancy would be joining Wednesday while Sweeney and Tove were left without an apparent job. It remained that way briefly.
"Tove, darling," Wednesday said, drawing her attention. "Gather your sisters, as many as you can."
"Four," She said in a somber tone.
"What?" Wednesday asked, his face twisted with mild confusion and apathy. He clearly wasn't paying much attention.
"There are only five of us left." It pained her to say it, but it was true. There used to be more than a dozen –twenty-eight in fact- but now there was only five.
"Right, fine." He nodded.
And with a few more angry words from Sweeney and a scowl from Laura, Wednesday drove off. Anansi shouted a parting jab as he hung out of the passenger-side window at the leprechaun. They turned onto the main road shortly after.
"Fuck!" Sweeney bellowed as he kicked the ground. He sent a small bit of gravel flying. He spun to face her. "This is fuckin' horseshit."
Tove nodded. She agreed wholeheartedly "At least you have a choice."
"Not much o' one."
"More than me." She replied. Tove dropped her arms and reached into the pocket of her leather jacket to remove a single pair of keys on a simple ring.
Sweeney's anger subsided just a bit with her declaration because he knew she was right. He was in league with the God because of a bargain he'd made. Tove and her sisters on the other hand had no choice. There were no Valkyrie without Odin. Odin was their leader, their king. She had to obey his commands.
Tove zipped up her jacket and approached a large, angry-looking Harley Davidson motorcycle that was parked only a few yards away. She grabbed the helmet off the handlebars, a black helmet with the faint wisp of wings painted on either side. Grasping it in her hand, she gave the leprechaun her attention. He gradually approached her with his hands in his pockets and agitation evident.
She met him in stride until they were close enough. Sweeney met her gaze heavily. He was as 'in the mood' for the bullshit surrounding them as she was. With a sigh, his eyes fell shut and his head dipped forward. His forehead touched hers, and she soon mirrored his expression. They remained that way for a breath or two before Tove turned her head a bit to the side, kissed him softly, and stepped away.
The motorcycle was large, a beast on two wheels, yet still seemed so small when she threw her leg over the seat.
"Be careful." She told him before sliding her helmet on.
Sweeney only nodded. Tove slid the key in, gave it a turn, then lifted the bike. She kicked it on. The engine roared to life and, not a moment later, she sped off onto the main road, driving in the opposite direction Wednesday and Anansi had traveled.
Mad Sweeney and Laura traveled down the road at a ridiculous speed. He hated the car. As usual, Sweeney was too long to fit comfortably behind the wheel no matter how far he pushed the seat back.
"I mean," Laura continued to spit her vitriol, "Whoever had a use for leprechauns?" Sweeney clenched his jaw tightly. "What do you do? You take, and take, and take, and you give nothing back. You are monsters under the bed, fucking destroying lives."
He'd had enough. "Oh, pot, kettle, black." He snapped back at her. "And God didn't fuck up your life. You didn't that all on yer own."
"It was my life to fuck up!"
"Indeed t'was." He shot back. "And you fucked tha shit outta it, didn't ya? Fucked up yer husband's life as well. Got 'im sent to prison, and then, while he's servin' his penance, for you, you were suckin' all over his bes' friend's knob."
"I don't know what syphilitic time period spawned leprechauns, but in my world, infidelity doesn't warrant a death sentence."
Sweeney's jaw was set in a tight line. He was furious for a number of reasons, the majority of which was the woman sitting beside him in the stolen car.
"In my time, it was the greatest sin, to betray you sworn love." He said. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It's the mark of a-"
"Cow," Laura interrupted.
Sweeney barely reacted in time, swerving around a large, black, unmovable beast that had decided the middle of the road was the best place for it to stop. Sweeney's heart raced, his body full of adrenaline, and a nervous smile on his lips.
A bit of good luck, he thought to himself. He thought prematurely, apparently.
The sound and sudden jerk of a blown tire was immediate. Sweeney clenched his jaw once more and scowled as he guided the vehicle to the shoulder.
"Fuck," Laura hissed.
She took the words right out of his mouth. As a result, Sweeney took to assaulting his steering wheel. He punched it, rammed the heel of his palm against it repeatedly until he felt even the slightest bit better.
"Outta the fuckin' car." He growled.
Sweeney threw the door open after popping the trunk. Laura was slower to exit, but she did, too.
Each action was stilted and jerky. He was frustrated, and furiously angry. Sweeney just wanted the whole thing to be done. When would the fucking skies turn red? When would he hear the sound of the trumpets signaling the battle's beginning?
Why was he stuck chauffeuring the fucking corpse?
"There's no jack." He said as he dropped the spare to the ground.
"Of course there isn't." Laura mumbled.
With the tire iron in hand, he pushed the spare toward the front. Laura positioned herself there as well. Sweeney knelt down.
"Right then, lift." His voice dripped with derision.
She glared hatefully, but squatted down and lifted the car. It groaned its protest, but obeyed her commands.
Sweeney quickly began to undo each of the lug nuts. As he did, he thought back to the conversation they'd been having only minutes ago.
"You really feel nothin' fer cheatin' on yer man?" He asked as he jerked one nut loose.
In a slightly strained voice, Laura replied. "I'm not having this conversation right now."
"No? Cos yer the one spoutin' off sayin' we're the one fuckin' up yer life, but we both know that ain't true. Now, all the sudden, yer all 'bout getting' yer man back when you couldn't've been bothered just a few weeks ago."
"Fuck you." She muttered. Sweeney set the third out of six lug nuts down and went to work on the fourth. "Are you seriously telling me that, in however many hundreds of years you and Tove have been married, you never cheated on her?"
He scoffed. "Not like you did."
"The fuck's that mean?" She snapped. "That's not even a real answer."
Angry, Sweeney turned his attention on her, his arm resting on his knee as he stared up at the tiny woman holding a car.
"Loyalty means somethin' different to things like us. You," He pointed at her with the tire iron, "Spread yer legs in the worst possible place. Not only did ya fuck up yer life and drag yer man down wit ya," He returned to unscrewing the lug nuts, "But, ya fucked his mate's life, and the bloke's wifey, too. Like a fuckin' atom bomb, you are."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her snarl and bite back something before she spoke again. "You didn't answer my question."
"Course I've been inside other women, and she's had other men inside her." He gave Laura his attention again. With her brow furrowed in a scowl, she met his gaze. "Hell, sometimes we'd fuck 'em together, but difference is, we know we ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout."
"That makes no sense." Laura said loudly. "You can't sit there and play some kind of saint when you're just as bad as me."
"Eh-eh," He shook his head sharply. "Cos you never loved yer man." Her expression slowly began to drop. "Not the way he loved you, at least. Sex is jus' sex, but what you did was meant to hurt. That was vengeance right there. Can't do somethin' like that to a person you actually care 'bout."
She scoffed and he noticed her shake her head. "So, what, you and Tove are different because you're soul mates?" she asked sarcastically.
"I already told ya," Sweeney finally managed to get the last lug nut off and removed the flat tire when he had. "She marked tha' the moment we met."
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the back roads of America, Tove sped toward New York. She traveled faster than humans could register, gliding between vehicles and over asphalt as though she was flying. In some ways, perhaps she was.
She could vaguely sense her sisters, that was how she knew so few were left. It was a small, slightly nagging feeling that she could usually ignore, but now put as much focus into as she could.
Guilt was a powerful emotion and it consumed her as she charged toward her sisters, calling them to arms for a war that would likely kill them all.