Everything hurt. He hadn't felt this bad in a long time, not since he got into his first serious brawl and even then it didn't hurt this bad. If the Valkyrie took him to Valhalla he shouldn't hurt so much. Maybe he ended up going to Helhiem.

He tried to open his eyes but even his eye lashes hurt. Maybe he somehow actually did survive the attack and was laying there injured. Biting back a groan he forced his eyes open. A wooden ceiling greeted him.

Slowly he lifted his hands, wincing as his muscles screamed. White bandages covered his injuries, some staying on him without falling off even though they were just laying there. His arms were bare and he realized that his chest was exposed. So were his legs. Someone had stripped him leaving only his loin cloth with just a blanket on him.

To not alert any potential enemies he slowly moved his head. To his right was a wall with shelves that had clear jars full of things. Dried herbs hung from some of the shelves and well crafted pots sat on other shelves. The blacksmith here was an excellent craftsman!

He turned his head the his left and felt his breath hitch. Laying near him was the Valkyrie, sleeping. Well she wasn't next to him. A table sat arms reach away and she was laying partly on it. Her raven black hair was braided with a few wisps coming out to frame her heart shaped face that was lightly tanned. Her lips were pink and slightly parted as she breathed. A well crafted deep red shirt covered her torso along with a colorful blanket that had flowers woven on it draping off her shoulders. He couldn't do anything but stare at her in awe as his heart ached oddly.

Footsteps drew his attention from her as a equally beautiful blonde woman walked in. She had to be a Valkyrie as well but where his was warm and comforting, she looked cold and sharp like a warrior. Even her eyes, a deep blue, made him think of steel. A shawl covered her shoulders.

She noticed him looking at her and walked over. She spoke strange words he couldn't understand while gesturing. He stared at her blankly. What did she want from him. For a second she frowned at him before clearing her throat.

"You don't understand Engelsk," she said. That must be the language she spoke earlier. Maybe that was the language of Valkyries. "How do you feel?"

"Sore," he rasped and winced at the sound of his own voice. She gestured at him to stop and walked over to a crystal pitcher. The sound of water pouring sounded soothing. Soon she handed him a crystal cup that he could only stare at in awe.

"Drink," she ordered. "Wet your throat." He did as she commanded, sitting up slightly, and drank the whole glass. The cold water felt amazing on his sore throat.

"Thanks," he said as he studied the glass. "This is amazing. How did you make this?"

"I didn't. We bought it." She sounded confused at his question. "Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts if I'm honest," he said with a soft chuckle. "Am I in Valhalla?"

"No. Why would you think you're in Valhalla?" She took his hand and placed two fingers on his wrist in an odd manner. He resisted jerking his hand away.

"Because I should be dead. I flew into the middle of an attack to stop my friends from doing it. Explosions of that magnitude would kill any." She stared at him in shock. "What?"

"What did you fly into an explosion?"

"A dragon, duh."

"You flew. A dragon. Into an explosion." Was it that hard to believe he would sacrifice himself like that that even a Valkyrie was shocked. "Did you take anything before getting hurt? Any medicine or some kind of drugs?"

"No? I tried to warn my friends about the attack but they wouldn't believe me. So I rode Shattermaster into the Dragon Hunters ambush and set off the traps. Which were the explosions I might add." He glanced around. "Do you guys let dragons into Valhalla?"

"Mom?" a sleepy voice said followed by a string of words he couldn't understand. His Valkyrie was awake!

The ice Valkyrie answered, eyeing him. She said a few more things that drew his Valkyrie's attention. Her eyes were a beautiful mix of brown and blue, like the view you could see on a spinning dragon that made the sky and ground mix together. She held the blanket closer, blinking at him sleepily as she said something to the other Valkyrie who answered. She left the room while looking at him curiously.

"Where is she going?" he asked.

"To get her father," the ice Valkyrie. Valkyries had fathers? Maybe it was Odin? "What's your name?"

"My name is Dagur, Dagur the Deranged of the Berserker Tribe."