AN: Please let me know what you think and enjoy!
Part III
His voice was on the air. It called to her, to all of them, and helped rouse Tove from her sleep.
She pushed herself up and looked around. She was in a small clearing, surrounded by trees, a dead fire, and the bodies of her sisters and Sweeney. Hildegund and Skuld were slowly rising on the other side of the pit where the fire had been. Sweeney was beside her, lying on his stomach in the dried leaves and damp earth.
Tove got to her feet and stretched. She rolled her head, her shoulders and her arms around to loosen the joints. She was still sore though knew it had nothing to do with how she'd slept. It was because sleep hadn't come until an hour prior and she, Sweeney, and Brigitte had been busy.
Brigitte and Samedi…
Tove glanced around and noticed that their hosts were nowhere to be seen. It didn't bother her. She assumed they'd returned to their camps. Last night hadn't been a first for her in the sense of being with another woman, but it was when it came to another divine.
The power still coursed through her body. She felt charged, filled with whatever blessing the Loa had given her. She assumed her sisters and Sweeney were the same.
Hildie and Skuld lace on their dresses and Tove did the same, but Sweeney hadn't moved. Grinning to herself, she nudged him with her foot. At first there was nothing. When her kicked was a bit harsher, he shot awake.
"The fuck?" He groaned.
Skuld giggled and Hildegund smiled as he shoved himself up. The entirety of Mad Sweeney's front was smeared with dirt. There were even a few leaves that clung to his skin.
"Fuckin' Christ," He groaned as he rubbed his head. "The fuck happened?"
Tove tilted her head to the side, her long hair falling under gravity. She didn't care that there were twigs in it and other debris. Her attention was solely on the Irishman.
"Was I so forgettable?" She asked teasingly. Sweeney looked up through one squinted eye. "Or Brigitte?"
A slow smile began to form as, she assumed, the memories returned. He even chuckled a little.
"Come along, Irishman." Hildegund said, drawing his eye. "All Father calls."
She tossed him his trousers, hitting him square in the face when she did. He grumbled and cursed under his breath, but stood and began to dress. As he did, Tove let loose a loud, ear-piercing whistle. Her sisters did the same.
"For the love of Brahn," He snapped. "What's that f-"
His words fell away as thundering hooves drew near. Within seconds, three horses emerged through the trees. Her sisters approached their mounts and threw themselves onto the backs of them. Tove was slower to do the same, but did when Sweeney was dressed.
"You'll ride with me." She told him.
"I got my own horse." He replied a little tersely.
"Not like ours." Skuld grinned.
He eyed her skeptically for a moment, but didn't seem to be in the mood to fight. Instead, he got onto Tove's horse with her, pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his thick arms around her body.
"Hold tightly." She said. "Mánagarmr is not your average horse."
Sweeney was never given the chance to ask what she meant before she snapped the reins. Mánagarmr immediately set off at an ungodly speed.
Mad Sweeney slid off the back of the horse like rain down a window. He stumbled to the ground, landing in a mass. He groaned and grunted, and struggled not to vomit. There were no words to describe what he'd just been through. Not only was he still nursing a hangover, but he'd just taken a ride on the back of an animal that was clearly not of this world.
Horses didn't glide so easily through the trees. They didn't run so fast that the world disappeared. They didn't radiate some kind of foreign power.
As his wits returned, Sweeney realized that he and the others were atop a sloping hill. Down below in some kind of valley-like area rested a city. He didn't think it was New Orleans, but he honestly couldn't remember much beyond the drink he'd imbibed while within the city limits. Whatever name it held, he could hear fighting in spite of the distance.
Grimnr stood at the edge of the slope, surrounded by the pristine women. It appeared that Sweeney and the others were the last to arrive. There were so many of them, so many beautiful faces with fierce expressions. He stumbled back and took to leaning against a tree. He wanted to be out of the way.
"Valkyrie!" Grimnr shouted, his voice travelling far with minimal effort. A wide, sadistic smile curled his lips and in what was barely more than a whisper, he replied, "Find me my warriors."
The Valkyrie shouted, their horses whinnied and…
Sweeney shook his head, trying to dislodge the fog that had taken over because he couldn't have seen what he knew he saw.
The women on horseback changed. Their dresses melted away revealing the fighters beneath. No longer wearing silks or gossamer, each of them shined in brilliant mail and leather. Weapons flickered into existence, long spears and maces. But, perhaps the most disturbing, was their mounts. His focus had been primarily on Tove and as she gave a warrior's cry, rearing back on her steed, the illusion of a horse faded, leaving behind a ferocious, snarling, barking wolf.
"The fu-"
Sweeney stumbled back. The size of the animal hadn't changed, which made the wolf's emergence all the more horrifying.
Its black fur glistened alongside its angry, shining teeth. It howled and a chorus followed suit. Sweeney's blood ran cold when he saw that each and every one of the horses had melted into a wolf.
"Charge!" Tove cried.
She launched herself over the hill and toward the city, followed by her kin. Eyes wide, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the sea of Valkyrie that descended upon the battle that had begun sometime during the morning.
The sun had set when the Valkyrie returned. Some were smeared with mud, others bright crimson streaks. None of them were less beautiful for the fact.
Grimnr stood at the slop here he'd been for his speech and as they passed him, each of the women bowed their heads, pressed their forearm to their chests in respect, and then vanished. One after another after another paid their tribute to the Norse god.
Finally, and seemingly last in the line, Tove appeared. Long hair had been braided away from a face accentuated by a smear of blood. She appeared every inch the warrior as she spoke to Grimnr and it stirred that thing inside him that reminded him of the strange amount of luck he must have had all of those years ago, stumbling into the pub in Concord.
When she'd finished speaking to the prick, Tove's gaze landed on him. A strange jolt of excitement trickled down his spine as she approached. Near enough, she slid from the back of her beast and closed the distance between them.
"Until next time, Irishman."
Tove slid her had behind his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was fierce and powerful, just like her.
When they parted, she ran his bottom lip through her teeth. He groaned at the delightful sensation.
He opened his heavy lids and watched as she threw herself onto her mount with ease and, after a wink, disappeared just as her sisters had. He didn't know when he'd see her again, but Sweeney would certainly remember her name.