Chapter 12
Thorn in the Flesh
With a gentle rap on the ornate wood and a glance toward the guard that escorted her, Dallea sat back on her heels. She wondered why she was still so nervous to see the Queen. Or, maybe it was just leftover nerves. Earlier that morning she was walking to breakfast and saw Sigyn and Loki. Needless to say, she didn't have breakfast.
Of course the guard hadn't known why the Queen requested her presence. Naturally, Dallea's mind raced to deduce why she was being lead to an unfamiliar section of the palace. Was it because of Loki? That incident in the library had been replaying in her mind since the second it happened.
That must be it, then. Loki told Frigga of the tension that permeated in the library. From what Eir told her, such a presumption wasn't out of character; he was always spending time with his mother. Dallea shifted her weight and glanced down the hall, wondering if she would be caught if she broke out into a sprint. Was she going to be scolded for stirring up unneeded drama? Was there an executioner on the other side?
"Come in," the Queen called from within the room. Dallea shook her head. Don't be stupid, she thought to herself. Surely the Queen would have a trial before she full on executed her. For some reason that thought and the smile it produced made her feel better.
She pushed the door open and squinted at the brightness of the sun shining directly into her eyes. This room had an unpractical amount of windows and tapestries to catch the light of the afternoon. A few bookshelves stuck out from the eastern wall, creating private cubicles for studying or … something. The room was empty aside from the Queen, but it didn't look as if it was manufactured for one person. Perhaps she just liked the extra space.
Chairs and tables littered the room, all equally lavish. Frigga stood from her seat, the farthest one from the door, and moved to meet Dallea in the center of the room.
Dallea curtseyed and Frigga's welcoming smile encouraged her to relax. "Good morning, Your Majesty."
"To you, also, Dallea. I hope you slept well?" she said.
Dallea nodded and Frigga mirrored the motion before gesturing her to follow her deeper into the room, back toward the chair she had previously been sitting in.
"Now, it's come to my attention." Dallea's heart stopped. "That there are conflicting views about the nature of your magic," Frigga said, her voice taking on a teasing quality as she reclined into her seat. Dallea was puzzled as she sat down on a chair across from Frigga's. Realization hit and she paled. The Queen waved her hand, dismissing any apology that would tumble out of Dallea's mouth. "Of course, it isn't your fault. Hlín and Loki just happened to come to me at the same time about the same issue." Frigga looked beyond Dallea with a grimace. "Unfortunately, they weren't nearly as polite to each other as you'd expect."
Ah. So it had been Dallea's second greatest fear. Now there was no doubt Hlín and Loki knew that she had … relations? With both of them. Dallea cringed at the mere thought of that word. Loki had said Sigyn wasn't interrupting anything, therefore she and him had no relations.
The Queen was looking at her, as if waiting for her to speak. Dallea wanted to say something reassuring, about how she had no doubt they were civil, but she was too busy wilting at the thought of a confrontation between the two of them. Frigga shook her head and turned her mouth upward in a warm smile.
"No matter. I wanted to speak with you directly about the issue," Frigga said. Dallea balked again. The Queen's voice was mercifully soothing. "Not about their childish feud, of course. About your magic.
"Loki mentioned you have another cut on your hand, that also has magical implications," Frigga said. "Or, to put it simply, he believes you had magic outside of your gúl -o hosts, but it was removed."
"What?!" Dallea exclaimed, before covering her mouth with her hand, then allowing it to slide down and squeeze her throat. "I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to shout, your majesty, it's just … how could I? Have other magic?"
"That's what I'm wondering as well," Frigga said, sitting up in her seat and motioning for Dallea to do the same so they were closer. "But my son is clever, sometimes too clever, and I trust his judgement. I would just like to see for myself."
Dallea immediately extended her hand without Frigga having to say anything. She scanned Dallea's palm and frowned, nodding slowly.
"Do you see it?" Frigga asked, gently pushing her hand back toward her. Dallea hesitated, but glanced down at it. No, she couldn't. Dallea shook her head, and Frigga cupped Dallea's hands in hers. "Try again."
Now with the assistance of, Dallea assumed, Frigga's own magic, the bite marks from the Mare were dozens of holes piercing through her, glowing a faint white. That light was dim enough to be visible, but not to drown out the sight of a tiny blue line, running parallel to the bite mark. Judging by the way the visibility of the blue line waxed and waned in tangent with the bite mark's illumination, Dallea doubted she would notice it if the bite mark didn't exist.
"I see it," Dallea said, voice tight. A blackness crept into her mind, a tangible, swirling dread. When Frigga opened her mouth, she couldn't help but flinch.
"Can you remember any time where," Frigga started, before stopping and smoothing her thumb over Dallea's hand. "Dallea? Are you alright?"
"Yes, sorry," Dallea whispered hoarsely.
Frigga inclined her head forward, scanning Dallea's face over and over. "Dallea, can you remember any time where something inexplicable happened around you? Something that you could have done, before you were bitten?"
"No," Dallea said, shaking her head with more vigour than was necessary. "No, I can't remember anything."
"Are you sure?" Frigga asked, voice soft. "Nothing is going to happen to you, Dallea, you can be honest."
"I can't remember anything," Dallea said, her voice cracking. Frigga wiped a tear away from Dallea's cheek. With shaky fingers, Dallea dabbed her eyes, not realizing she was crying until a sob fought its way past her lips. The Queen left her chair in favour of kneeling beside Dallea's knee, cooing reassuring words over and over as Dallea curled in on herself and cried.
"You're okay," Frigga muttered, running her fingers through Dallea's hair. "Oh, my child. You're completely fine. Nothing is going to hurt you, don't cry."
Eventually, after Dallea managed to grab ahold of her skittering emotions and restrain them, she sat up and leaned into Frigga's hand against her cheek. The Queen, despite her obvious worriment, gave her a smile. Dallea allowed her eyes to flutter closed after seeing it, breathing in the beautiful scent of flowers that seemed to emanate from the woman before her.
"I'm sorry," Dallea croaked. "I-I don't know … I can't remember doing anything magical, I swear…"
"I believe you," Frigga said, coaxing Dallea to open her eyes. Frigga was standing over her, now, extending a hand to help her to her feet. "More than likely, it was a very traumatic moment for you and I would never force you to remember such a thing. I'm sorry for upsetting you, that was never my intention."
Dallea shook her head, feeling ridiculous. She had no idea why she had reacted in such a way. Though, presumably, it was because she hadn't had to think about it for a long time. But to do so in front of the Queen, of all people, who most likely had far more important things to do than watch Dallea shrivel and weep like a pathetic child? "Please, your majesty, don't apologize. I'm sorry I couldn't remember."
Frigga's face fell for a second, the self-deprecation in Dallea's voice bothering her. She took Dallea's hands in her own and opened her mouth. Dallea didn't understand the silent struggle in the Queen's eyes.
"There is a way to remember," Frigga said. "But I would advise against it, judging by your reaction. However, you are a grown woman and if it is something you think you're ready for, I don't see how I have any right to withhold it from you."
A nervous knot formed in Dallea's stomach. "How? I mean, how would such a thing be possible?"
Frigga hesitated. "There is magic that I know of that makes me capable of looking into others' memories. It's a difficult and dangerous spell, but when you are ready, I could try to sift through your trauma and … in a sense, remember with you. However, today is not the day to…"
"Could we try?" Dallea said, her earnesty making Frigga frown deeply. Instantly, she regretted bringing it up at all.
"Dallea, forgive me, but I don't believe you are emotionally sound enough to …"
"I don't think I ever will be," Dallea admitted. The pit in her stomach grew, but the thought of being vulnerable enough to cry at the drop of a hat put a determined glint in her eye. Besides, having someone else understand sounded like bliss. "If you have the time, I'd like to."
Frigga bit her tongue, hard. Alas, she was not her mother, and if Dallea was half as adamant as she looked, there was nothing she could say to dissuade her. So, with a begrudging sigh, she nodded.
"Now?" Dallea said, a nervous smile broaching her features. "If, that is, you aren't busy."
"No, no," Frigga said, waving away Dallea's concern.
Frigga waited a moment, hoping Dallea would change her mind. Nothing. She placed a hand on Dallea's upper back and guided her toward one of the cubicles at the side of the room, closed off by bookshelves. A reclined chair was the only thing that furnished this darker area, and Dallea started to have second thoughts. Frigga searched her face for hesitance, but Dallea squared her shoulders and laid down when she was told.
Frigga stood beside her, ghosting her fingers along Dallea's cheeks before nodding. "I'm going to need you to relax. I want you to clear your mind of everything except what you were thinking about. Try to coax out your memory."
Dallea nodded. Breathed in. Breathed out.
Frigga, noticing Dallea's chest rise and fall at a slow, steady rate, spoke. "Good. You're doing fantastic. Nothing is going to happen to you… you're going to be okay."
You're going to be okay. Dallea felt drowsiness cover her like a thick blanket. Was this the spell at work? She eased into it, closing her eyes and forcing her mind to turn to the swirling black. The longer she focused, the more the abstract shapes in her mind became real memories. She felt herself being nudged toward a memory that was more blurry than the rest. That nudge must have come from Frigga.
But ...no. Not that one, Dallea squirmed.
"Shh, you're okay," Frigga's said, sounding like she was at the end of a long tunnel. Dallea's lower lip was starting to tremble. "That's the one. I see something…"
Dallea physically flinched when Frigga tried to venture closer. All the Queen managed to see was a Mage. From Vanaheim. He had a mark on his face and was extending a hand toward Dallea, but that was too much. Panic flooded Dallea's mind, sending the memory spiralling away. Frigga tried to retreat, but Dallea clung to her for comfort, dragging her to another memory.
This one was golden. At least, Frigga thought it was. Dallea relaxed being near it, but she only drifted close enough to hear laughter and feel the warmth of praise. This was a fond memory.
Frigga looked beyond the immediate happiness and saw that same memory sour to something but more sinister. This one turned blue, then deep crimson, then the darkest black. From within those ominous colours, Frigga saw the briefest glances of what those memories contained:
Blood. Vanaheim. Panic. A Man. A Blade. Magic.
In the physical realm, Frigga's hands were cupping Dallea's face as she stood over her, at the head of the chair. "Your magic … Dallea, may I see this?"
A tear streamed down Dallea's face. The memory flickered before the gold enveloped them before appearing with startling clarity. Suddenly Frigga was an omnipotent spectator, watching a corridor filled with warriors. Frigga recognized the stone bricks as those in the castle of Vanaheim, many many years ago. The memory shimmered, and then began.
Dallea shifted, her face partially covered by a cloth. Only her eyes were visible, glancing every so often at the equally nervous man to her right. They both wore a similar blue and white breastplate and sigil on their collar; if their pointed ears didn't heil them from Alfheim, their armour certainly did.
Besides them, there were two other elves on one side of the corridor, facing six Vanir warriors wearing colours of purple and green. The Elves studied the floor as the Vanir warriors whispered jeering taunts to one another, pretending their victims couldn't hear.
A Vanir soldier spoke to one of the men to the left of Dallea, and he wilted under the pressure. When that same Vanir man directed his gaze toward Dallea, she did the same.
"And you?" he said, voice level and deceptively friendly. "What happened to your face? Why do you cover it?"
The man to her right spoke before she could. "He's allergic to the moss on the castle walls."
"Then why is he here?" another Vanir man scoffed. "You couldn't bring someone who isn't afraid of a little greenery?"
Dallea looked up at the man to her right with appreciative eyes. The man, ignoring the Vanir soldiers and their taunts entirely, gave her a sweet smile. She blushed and averted her eyes.
Zaos. The Elf's name came to Frigga before she could articulate the question. Along with his name came a waterfall of emotions, including affection.
The door to their left opened, silencing everyone simultaneously. Out came King Njörd, albeit a much younger version of himself. He seemed panicked, as did Freyr, ruler of Alfheim. Njörd was the first to speak.
"We are under attack."
The Vanir soldiers looked between themselves incredulously as the Elves across from them exchanged uneasy glances.
"My liege, we have not received any…" a soldier said, stepping forward. Njörd silenced him with a heated glare.
"Of course not, we saw them climbing up the wall of the southern tower," Njörd said. "It's Gangnrad. It has to be. It was only luck we managed to see them. You two go and see how they breached our defences, and get reinforcements. Three of you will go to Skandi and Gerðr, and the others shall stay with us, here."
"Njörd, that is nonsense," Freyr, a Vanir man, did not fear speaking against Njörd in such an insolent manner, even if simply hearing his tone made the Elves recoil. "Two of my warriors will go with three of yours. They're more than capable of…"
"Please, not now," Njörd said, sounding annoyed. Freyr, a few inches taller than Njörd and more physically imposing in every way, squared off against the King as if they were of equal status.
"I am not leaving the fate of my wife, and yours, in the hands of three warriors," Freyr said firmly, with no room for negotiation. "I trust Zaos and Dallea with my life, and the lives of everyone in this castle. They were brought here to protect me and Gerðr, and they will do just that."
Njörd narrowed his eyes. The Vanir soldiers zeroed in on Dallea, whose eyes were becoming more obviously feminine by the second. Now that Freyr had effectively blown her cover, Dallea didn't see any reason to keep the cloth over her face. She removed it and tried her best to give Freyr a determined nod when he looked over at them.
Good Norns, she was so young, Frigga mused. She was glowing with pride at Freyr's words, spoken in front of those who looked down on her in every sense of the word. Frigga felt Dallea's elation as if it were her own.
Njörd, still obviously disgruntled, finally nodded. Before he could change his mind, Dallea and Zaos bowed and took off down the hallway, the Vanir soldiers haggling behind them.
Dallea gave Zaos a smile when they were far enough down the hall to be out of sight of the two rulers. Zaos wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed for a second before releasing her, pride oozing out of his expression.
Everything about him was beautiful, and though Frigga didn't doubt his attractiveness, she knew she was seeing him through Dallea's eyes.
"Did you hear that?" Dallea said breathlessly.
"'Course," Zaos said. "Even an idiot like me can recognize favouritsm when he sees it."
"Sh," Dallea said, elbowing him in the ribs.
"I heard they enlisted women in the Alfheim army," a Vanir soldier interrupted Zaos' reply, no small amount of contempt in his words. "But, I suppose, if your military is already a laughing stock, why not?"
Dallea's ears turned an unsightly shade of pink and she huffed as they continued down the hall. Now that Njörd was completely out of sight, Zaos had no trouble turning to the Vanir warriors with a sickly smile.
"Yeah, you're lucky Vanaheim doesn't enlist women or you'd be out of a job," he said, wiggling his eyebrows and walking backward so the Vanir men could see his expression. "I'll bet my sword that even your lout of a mother would have been able to see Gangnarad walk through the front gates."
"Shut your mouth, Leaf-Biter," a Vanir soldier snarled, not invested in the conversation before that very moment.
"Why?" Zaos challenged. "I've met some insecure people in my life, but …"
Dallea tugged on his arm, forcing him to walk normally again. She leaned in so she wouldn't have to raise her voice above a hiss. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"By who?" Zaos laughed, obviously placing a lot of faith in his intimidating size. "You're the only one that could. Maybe if Njörd had brought forward some actually good warriors instead of fireplace cleaner one, two, and three, then …"
"You have a death wish," Dallea muttered, glancing behind them. Zaos scoffed.
"Relax, would you? You don't need to be everyone's favourite," Zaos said, ducking down to her height as they walked and pinching her cheeks. She swatted his hand away none too lightly. "You've got Freyr wrapped around your finger, Gerðr loves you, do you really need Mr. Insecurity and Sir 'I've Never Touched A Woman'?"
"Shh," Dallea giggled, covering her mouth and glancing behind her to ensure the Vanir men couldn't hear what he said. Dallea poked Zaos in the side as they turned a corner.
When they did, they found a group of men dressed in black that stopped short upon seeing them. Dallea and Zaos froze for a second before unsheathing their swords. If the hostility in those men's eyes said anything, it was that they definitely weren't friends of the throne. The Vanir soldiers appeared on either side of them, though kept their distance so as not to be associated.
"Is that what I think it is?" Zaos muttered, eyeing the nearest man's yellow-edged sword.
"Looks like some denomination of it," Dallea replied. Zaos sighed.
"Great. I love Gangnrad and his creative pack of bandits," he said, swinging his sword to jumpstart some blood flow. "Getting stabbed isn't enough, oh no, you have to get poisoned too."
"Don't get stabbed," Dallea suggested. The last moments spent sizing up each opponent ended with one of the bandits screaming and charging toward them. The Vanir soldiers rushed ahead of the Elves, eagerly meeting the bandits mid-swing.
Dallea and Zaos waited a heartbeat before launching into the fight as well. Bandits fought in hoards, and there weren't many of them. They split up, taking each side and forcing the bandits to separate from their tightly knit group.
A bandit with two jagged knives noticed Dallea before she had a chance to attack. He jumped forward and slashed at her face. She leaned back to avoid the attack, then while straightening, used her momentum to feign an attack with her sword that he easily intercepted. He grinned, having her sword captured within his x formed knives. She returned the grin, and tilted her sword forward so he unintentionally was bracing her weight. With a huff, she then slid forward, kicking him deftly in the chest and sending him flying into another bandit. With practiced elegance, she regained her footing and twisted her sword in her hands.
When another bandit noticed her and began to raise his spear, she punched him hard enough for him to stumble and face the other direction. Her sword sliced the area on his back right beside the spine. Pain made him collapse to the ground.
She drew in a breath, then plunged her sword into the back of another bandit, who was in the middle of a fight with a Vanir soldier.
"Good one," Zaos whistled after finished up his own bandit. Dallea basked in his praise with a one-shoulder shrug.
The others gained an advantage over the bandits, with only two of the Vanir being wounded. Luckily the poison was infecting their arms and legs, no where near any vital organ. Unluckily, they were in excruciating pain and could go no further.
"I …" the remaining Vanir soldier faltered. He looked from his injured friends to the Elves who were standing upright and ready to continue on to the South Tower. Zaos and Dallea exchanged looks.
"Bring them to the infirmary," Dallea said, her voice gentle but stern. "We can handle it from here."
"But …" the man said. He fought a silent battle within his mind, but bowed his head when his friend cried out in pain. "Go, then."
"Good luck," Dallea said, then nodded at Zaos and they took off into a light jog in the direction of the South Tower.
They ran and ran and only slowed when they realized they didn't know which room held the Queens. Zaos threw himself against the doors, causing the locks that held them to snap under his strength. On the second room they scoured for any sign of Gerðr, Dallea sighed. Zaos turned at the sound, and Dallea shook her head, before hunching over to adjust her scabbard.
An arrow whistled through the air, where Dallea's head had been a second earlier. Instead of burying itself in her skull, it found a home in the wall, its yellow-dipped edged making it that much more dangerous.
Dallea dropped to the ground immediately, but Zaos took a second to squint out the window, to see that Gangnarad's bandits had also scaled the North Tower, and were perched on it, firing arrows at various windows and soldiers racing across the courtyard.
Dallea crawled over to where Zaos stood as an open target and pushed the back of his knees, forcing him to tumble to the ground. He turned to her with a grunt of annoyance.
"What the…" Dallea started, shaking her head. Zaos' much louder voice cut her off.
"Would you relax? They weren't firing. I know what I'm doing," he said, but didn't make a move to stand up again. "I was trying to see where they were firing from."
"There's probably more of them," Dallea said, annoyed but hurt by his vehemence. "Just because they weren't firing doesn't mean no one was…"
As if to prove her point, another arrow zipped into the room, landing closer to the floor. They were still visible.
"I have eyes, Dallea," Zaos said, brushing himself off and crawling toward the door. "You aren't in charge yet."
Dallea spent a moment being stricken before shoving her emotions to the side and following him out of the room. Once they closed the door behind them, there was a moment spent realizing they still didn't know which room they were supposed to go to. Until, that is, the shriek of Queen Skandi and the shattering of glass reached their ears from behind a door down the hall.
"After you," Dallea said. Zaos gave her a level glare, then braced himself and kicked open the door, directing all of the eyes in the room to them. The two Elves crowded the doorway, giving the five or so bandits in the room only one exit; out the broken windows from which they came. The bandits sneered at them, and Dallea raised her eyebrows. "Afternoon, gentlemen."
The closest bandit lunged forward, but Dallea slipped a knife out of her sleeve and threw it at his neck before he could get too close. Zaos ran forward, yanking said knife out of the bandit and used it to divert an attack from another. He slashed the bandit's cheek, then elbowed him in the shoulder, forcing him to kneel. From this vantage point, Zaos plunged the knife into the nape of the bandit's neck.
Dallea opened her mouth slightly, indignant that he wasn't following their practiced to perfection attack routine. Instead of allowing this to weigh her down, she used it to fuel her attacks. With the strength of anger, she was able to easily knock a sword out of a bandit's grip and kick him to the floor.
A bandit took advantage of Zaos' distraction to grapple him to the ground from the right, forcing his face into the marble floor. With a grunt, Zaos found his arms pinned behind his back. His eyes wildly flit around, resting on the sight of the two Queens wrestling against a bandit who was trying to drag them toward the window.
The weight on Zaos' back was alleviated as the bandit fell beside him, dead. He rolled over, leaping to his feet and brandishing his sword, sending Dallea sheepish smile as she glared at him.
"For the thousandth time," she said, pointing her knife at him before plunging it into the shoulder of a nearby bandit. With a deadly uppercut, she sent him sprawling, then turned back toward Zaos. "Watch your right flank."
"Yeah, yeah, your majesty," Zaos said flippantly. Dallea bristled.
"Can you stop?" Dallea said, but received no reply. With a sigh, she turned away to hide her hurt expression. She walked over to the window, knowing Zaos could deal with the last bandit still haggling the Queens. Just outside the shattered glass, seven ropes, like vertical prison bars, hung. Planting one hand against the wall to keep her balance, she leaned out the window to see the grappling hooks fastened to the top of the tower. One of the ropes, swinging in the slight breeze, was easy to cut free once she stretched far enough to reach it. The other ropes that were taut and strained proved to be only slightly less effortless. Unbothered, she ignored the cries of bandits whose ropes were cut in favour of turning to check the well being of Zaos.
Queen Skandi and Gerðr looked shaken, but mostly alright. Zaos was holding Gerðr up by her waist, and for a terrifying second Dallea thought the woman came in contact with the venom.
"I just landed in the broken glass," she said, managing a watery smile before wincing. "Don't worry about me."
Dallea looked unconvinced, but turned to Queen Skandi with a shallow bow. The Queen, in turn, was looking at her with the utmost interest.
"Your highness," Dallea said, voice even and respectful, but not nervous. "We need to get you out of the castle. Do you know of any safe passages or hidden exits we can take to minimize the risk of running into any hostiles?"
"There's one," Skandi said, bobbing her head at Dallea, then to Gerðr. "But it's treacherous, and I don't think Gerðr could make the journey."
Dallea glanced at Gerðr, then to Zaos, who gave her a reassuring grin. She should have scowled, but she smiled back instead; he wanted to drop their argument and she was glad.
Before she had to speak, Vanir soldiers poured into the room, weapons raised, then lowered, when they realized the women were safe. Dallea turned to the men, forgetting herself for a moment.
"She needs a medic," Dallea said, pointing toward Gerðr. "You don't happen to have one among you, do you?"
The Vanir men looked at her blankly, then proceeded to ignore her entirely. Dallea's eyebrows furrowed, confused. She repeated herself, but this time she didn't even receive a look of incredulity.
In fact, it wasn't until Queen Skandi stood next to her, with a hand on her shoulder, that the soldiers even looked at her again. "She said, that Gerðr needs a medic. You would do well to listen," Skandi shouted over the bustling of the Vanir soldiers as they all but pushed Zaos away from the other Queen. They instantly stilled, then turned to a man who bowed to Skandi and approached Gerðr, speaking in soothing tones.
"Thank you," Dallea said, sending Skandi an appreciative look. The Queen replied by squeezing her shoulder.
"What is your name, child?" Skandi asked, and despite the frazzled state of her hair and clothes, she was as polite and charming and royal as ever. The sheer amount of awe Skandi held in her eyes made Dallea glow.
"Dallea. Dallea Janiadottir," she answered with a respectful bow of her head. Skandi smiled and released her shoulder. The Vanir soldiers were trying to herd their Queen out the door, but she seemed to have one last thing to say.
"Dallea Janiadottir, thank you, and your friend, for saving me," she said. "Sjáumst. Until we meet again."
Dallea's smile grew and grew until it was ridiculous and childish, but she couldn't help it. She didn't know that Queen Skandi knew Elvish, and she never could have dreamed that she would hear that farewell outside of Alfheim. Of course, Dallea replied: "Sjáumst. Be safe, your majesty."
"I won't let your good work be in vain," the Queen said with a nod.
Gerðr was carried out by two soldiers shouting out orders, but Skandi walked out with her back straight and her head held high. Soon the room was empty, save Zaos and Dallea.
Zaos elbowed Dallea and wiggled his eyebrows. "Looks like you have another fan."
"Shut up," Dallea laughed, elbowing him right back. Yet when she looked at him, there was a fondness that went beyond that of friendship.
"You've never smiled at me like you smiled at her," Zaos joked, not a single trace of jealousy on his face. "I'm feeling kind of left out."
"Good," Dallea said, sticking her tongue out at him then making her way out the door. He matched her stride with a hand dramatically placed over his heart.
"You wound me, oh fair but treacherous nymph" he said, voice buttery and shrill. He didn't even have to ask where they were going; he knew the only place they could go was back to the war room with Freyr and Njörd. He dropped his hand and ceased his impression. "This is like Lamruil all over again…"
Dallea's laugh was short and loud. "For Yggdrasil's sake, don't be stupid. Besides, you haven't started crying."
"Yet," Zaos warned, leaning into Dallea with a teasing smile before she pushed him away by the chest, laughing.
Frigga, up to this point, was ignoring the growing white noise behind the memory. But now, it became almost overwhelming. The static made the memory vibrate, making Frigga unable to see anything. She could feel Dallea's distress wash through her, and just when Frigga was about to escape her mind in order to calm her down, the memory came back into focus. Zaos and Dallea had been ambushed going closer to the war room, and though Dallea's head was bleeding, they seemed mostly unscathed.
Dallea ducked to dodge a swipe from a venom-coated blade, then stood to grab the wrist of the bandit who threatened to do it again. Using his height advantage, her attacker stepped into her personal space and tried to overpower her hold on his wrist and plunge the knife into her eye socket. She grunted, but used him pushing against her throw him off balance by stepping to the side. Seconds later she was wrenching the knife from his hand and burying it into his chest.
The body fell to the floor and she craned her neck back, closing her eyes for a second to catch her breath. She leaned against the stone corridor for a few moments to ensure she would stay standing. Her scabbard had fallen off of her belt without her constantly adjusting it. Looking to an equally tired-looking Zaos who occupied an open doorway, she took a moment to watch him wipe the blood off of his knife. When he noticed her staring, his expression softened into something sweet enough to make her ill.
She smiled brightly at him, and he at her. They had done it again.
"You okay-?" he asked. From within the room, glass shattered and a whistling sound cut through the otherwise quiet corridor. Thunk. His question ended with a sharp gasp.
Dallea stood up abruptly, but found her limbs too heavy to move beyond that. Her sword clattered to the ground from loose fingers. Zaos' eyes widened, then drifted to look at the right side of his chest, where half of an arrow protruded. The other half was … it was …
He looked back up and her and gagged.
She launched herself toward him, then, and held his head in her hands as he fell to his knees.
"No," Dallea whispered, her voice almost inaudible. Her hand moved to grip the arrow soldily. She made a move to yank it out of his body, but his hand closed around hers. With wild eyes, she watched as acceptance drowned out his pain.
"Y-you can't. The poison is already … It's already in…" he said, his words becoming slurred.
"No, please, no …" Dallea begged, holding his face tightly as his eyes struggled to remain open.
"Dallea…" Zaos managed to sputter before falling onto his back, leaving her to awkwardly kneel and place his head in her lap. Tears blurred her vision and fell down upon his face.
Grief. It was so intense, Frigga felt herself shed a tear. The memory ached and Frigga heard Dallea start to sob, but she still wouldn't let Frigga leave, and Frigga finally understood why. Words couldn't explain the anguish radiating off of Dallea in this memory. Not enough.
"Please, don't," Dallea chanted over and over, her voice ragged and pleading. "No..."
"I … I love …" Zaos breathed, wincing. His hand tried to reach her face, but he needed her to guide it the rest of the way. "I love…"
His eyes looked at something far away, too far for her ever to follow. She pressed his hand more tightly against her face when it went limp.
The white noise roared in Frigga's ears, but still Dallea's crying in the present and past were audible. In that corridor, Frigga caught glimpses of Dallea howling despair to anyone who would listen, but the memory was so ragged with emotion it faded in and out of clarity. That is, until a bandit rounded the corner and approached her, weapon drawn. The white noise subsided as Dallea in the memory heard him coming closer.
The memory refocused when Dallea looked up from Zaos' broken form. The sheer wrath in her expression was terrifying to witness.
Dallea waited for the bandit to come closer. She slowly reached across to grab Zaos' forgotten blade, and used it, when the bandit was sufficiently close enough, to spin and throw it into her attacker's chest.
Her hands were shaking when she looked down to study them. They were coated with blood. Zaos' blood...
She stood, then, breathing heavily. She yanked the knife free. In her eyes a deadly fire raged. Though her hands trembled, she still managed to re-fasten her scabbard and sheath her sword. A tear rolled down her cheek but she swiped it away, smearing her face with blood.
Her stride started slow, as she made her way to the war room, but it quickly transformed into a sprint. She flew around corners, blinking away tears and killing any bandit she happened across. Her attacks were no long practiced, but violent and effective.
She didn't stop - couldn't stop - until she burst through the doors of the war-room. Her chest heaved. Freyr was tied up and being held with a knife to his throat, and beside him Njörd and a few Vanir soldiers were facing the same fate. Only, Njörd was mostly shrouded from view by the hulking figure of Gangnrad.
Gangnrad glanced toward the door when Dallea exploded into the room, sizing up the snarl on her face and her predatory stance. The lead bandit let a chuckle pass his lips as he turned to face her fully. He stood a good foot and a half taller than her, and looked pristine and unscathed. Still she pointed the blade in her hands at him and twisted it slightly, as if practicing for when she buried it into his neck.
"Vanaheim's finest, I take it?" Gangnrad said. A few of his bandits cackled, but she only had eyes for him. Despite him being a great many years older than him, she didn't doubt the power in his stance nor the strength she had been warned about.
She wavered. Before any doubt could poison her mind further, she caught sight of the two other Elves lying dead at the feet of a disgusting looking bandit. Their hands were tied. They had been killed after everyone surrendered, for pleasure, Dallea assumed.
In that moment, she decided she wasn't going to acknowledge the signs telling her to stop.
"Why don't you come and find out?" Dallea challenged through grit teeth. With one rough yank, she pulled her sword free, the sound music to her ears. She brandished each of her weapons, twirling them in her hands so he had a good look at how sharp they were before easing back into a fighting position.
"Dallea, no," Freyr begged, but the knife was pushed farther into his neck, slightly breaking the skin. Dallea stood motionless, waiting for Gangnrad to size her up again. He grunted, more out of amusement than anything else.
"This won't be but a moment, Njörd," he tossed over his shoulder. He shrugged off his large overcoat, exposing a scythe tinted yellow. He slowly, intimately, pulled it out of his belt and pointed it at Dallea. "I'm not finished with you yet."
There was a moment of calm before, like all of his bandits, Gangnrad roared and charged. Dallea pushed off the ground and ran toward him as well, albeit slower, so she could keep steady on her feet. Before he reached her, he pulled back his scythe, ready to swing it down on her chest…
Instead of, however, stabbing her through the heart, the scythe swiped through thin air and Gangnrad was thrown off balance. Dallea had dropped to the floor and slid underneath his attack, then leapt to her feet and used all of her momentum to charge him and knock him down.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room, then, as Dallea advanced on Gangnrad. Freyr took advantage of the bandit lowering the knife out of surprise, and headbutted him away. His outburst was contagious, and soon enough Njörd and the rest of the Vanir soldiers were also valiantly fighting for their freedom.
Dallea brought her sword down on Gangnrad, but he blocked the blow with his scythe, and as much as she leaned her weight into her sword's descent, he was too strong. She released him, then, and let him roll onto his back.
With a running start, Dallea leapt onto his back and raised her arm, ready to end him right then and there, but he was wriggling too ferociously and she had to stab him randomly. It wasn't that deep of a strike, but it deep enough to steal her knife. She scrambled to her feet and planted a foot on the back of his head, using it to launch herself off of him. She flipped in mid air, then landing in a kneeling position a few feet away. Unfortunately, this left her back turned to Gangnrad.
He forced himself to his feet, red tinting the edges of his vision. Dallea spun on her heel and blocked a swipe that would have beheaded her had she been a second too slow. Snorting with effort, he pressed further into her, but she took a few bracing steps backward and stood her ground. If she were standing in any other position he surely would have crushed her, but her weight was balanced enough to distribute his force evenly.
However her hands were shaky and slick with sweat and blood. The scythe inched closer to her face and he ducked his head to she could feel his breath on her face. Her breath came rapidly, gaze fixed on the scythe. He was flexing all of his muscles so hard that the knife in his back was squeezed out of his body, and fell to the ground. She shifted and ducked under his arm, abandoning her sword in favour of escape. It clattered to the ground and he crowed in victory.
She scooped up the dagger and backed away, twirling the knife in her hands and glancing around at the pandemonium that was the rest of the room. The other warriors and Kings were too busy fending off swarms of bandits, who were ignoring Dallea only on the basis Gangnrad would have their heads if they intervened.
Speaking of, he was stalking toward her more leisurely now, swinging his scythe with the easiness of a man who has already won. When he opened himself up to draw his weapon back yet another time, Dallea darted into his personal space and pushed back the arm that was holding it. With the same facility as when she was cutting the ropes, she chopped off his hand.
He was screaming in her face, now, and knocked her to the ground with a flailing elbow. She was allowed a few moments to recover from a blow to the back of the head as he gripped his wrist and continued to screech in pain, but the knife skittered out of reach in the meantime.
"You …" Gangnrad bellowed, reaching down and fisting her hair. Dallea was yanked to her feet and only just avoided being thrown across the room by socking him in the face. He released her, muttering curses, and she stumbled away, feeling dizzy. Blood from his injured arm was spurting everywhere, making the ground around them treacherous. Still Gangnrad charged toward her, and for a brief moment, satisfaction washed through her; he looked almost as furious as she felt.
He aimed a punch to centre of her face, but she knocked his fist away and swung one of her own. Unfortunately he moved out of the way and her fist connected with air. With a grunt of frustration, he tried to hack at her with his bleeding arm, but she spun away, causing him to cuss. He tried to knee her stomach but she jumped backward, then hopped right back up to him and struck him in the chest with an open palm. Satisfied with the way he jerked backward, she followed up with a swift kick that should have sent him flying, had he not caught it with his good hand.
Without any time to process what was happening, Dallea was thrown to the ground, all of the breath knocked out of her lungs. Gangnrad followed, kneeling beside her and wrapping his hand around her throat. She barely had time to take a shallow breath before he was squeezing the life out of her.
She clawed at his hand for a second before realizing it was useless. In a desperate attempt to free herself, she kicked his chest, and his hand lurched away. Coughing, she desperately scanned the area around her for something, anything she could use to defend herself. She zeroed in on the knife and all but flopped toward it, arm extended. But Gangnrad closed his hand around her throat again and ungracefully sat on Dallea's chest so she couldn't move. If only her vision wasn't fading, she would be able to see where the knife was, and maybe even reach it …
So dull and desperate were her senses, that she didn't have time to speculate how the blade suddenly flew into her hand. Only that when she felt her fingers close around the smooth hilt, she randomly slashed it at Gangnrad until it sank into flesh and he went limp above her.
Gasping and shaking, Dallea struggled for a few moments to shove Gangnrad's dead form off of her. Once she was free, she sat up and glanced at the corpse only to see the blade lodged deep into the right side of his neck. His eyes were empty.
With an agonizing slowness, she pulled the blade free and shifted until she was kneeling. Although she had every intention to rise to her feet, she found herself lost in the red colour decorating the blade of the knife. She heard her name.
Freyr was standing a pace away, looking down at her with a concoction of concern and apprehension. The bandits were being tied up. Njörd was looking at Dallea, unblinking. How grotesque she must have looked, there. Zaos' blood was covered in a layer of Grandnrad's. She felt more of it drying on her face.
When she looked up at Freyr, his eyes widened. Her face twisted, and she bowed her head, not fighting the sobs that wracked through her body. Freyr's hand landed on her shoulder, comforting in a way Dallea appreciated, but couldn't express.
In that moment, the anger leaked out of her body and spilled out onto the floor, joining the puddles of blood. The room echoed with the sounds of her sorrow, and the sound of it was enough for anyone who heard it to shed a tear of their own.
Frigga sucked in a loud breath and careened backward, barely catching herself before she fell. She had been crying and become an absolute wreck, but that was nothing compared to Dallea, who curled in on herself the instant Frigga released her face. That sound of her crying, made Frigga's heart bleed.
She went to Dallea, then, and nudged her so she could sit beside her on the chair. Without asking permission, Frigga wrapped her arms around Dallea and took a steadying breath. The poor girl was still too distraught to speak.
"It's alright," Frigga muttered, tucking Dallea's head beneath her chin so she could hide her from the expression on Frigga's face. Dallea's magic had surfaced under that extreme duress, but where was it now?
Yet Frigga knew that today was not the day to continue asking these kind of questions, as worrying as Njörd's expression had been. So instead she ran her fingers through Dallea's hair and held her until she cried herself to sleep. Still Frigga held her, her own tears landing on Dallea's hair.
NicheNiche- Holy guac, you wrote more than I do, I think! I appreciate it eternally, though. Thank you so much for caring and going so in depth, it's actually baffling that you like it so much. 'That's the Loki I like!" made me laugh out loud. I hope this chapter answers some questions about Dallea!
WishUponADragon - I'd just like to say sorry for this chapter. You got horseback riding last chapter and then... this :( Hearts for days even if I break them all, right? Right?! I hope you liked this one, in any case :*
