Where is she going? Dagur watched his Valkyrie leave, her shoulders hunched in defeat. Something happened between the three and she was the one who lost. His poor Valkyrie. If he knew what was going on he would be on her side. She had gotten excited when he answered her questions that Vivian repeated and when he said Magic, whatever that meant. The smile on her face when he said it again was worth not knowing.
"Why is she being sent away?" he asked as the dark haired man grumbled.
"She was sent to her room to get some sleep," the ice Valkyrie answered. "We may have some answers about what happened but we need to look into it."
"So I'm not in Valhalla?" She shook her head. "Then who are you other than Valkyries? Did you get sent out of Valhalla?"
"My name is Vivian," she offered. "That is my husband, Jon."
"Who is the other one?"
"She's my daughter, Iris."
"Iris." That was a beautiful name that fit her. They were beautiful flowers. The man, Jon, looked at him suspiciously and said something.
"My husband doesn't approve of your keen interest in our daughter," Vivian translated. "And I agree with him. Stay away from her."
"I didn't do anything," he argued. "I just can't believe she isn't a Valkyrie, that both of you aren't. You both look so, unreal."
"I could say the same for you," Vivian muttered. "Ignore that. This whole thing is a confusing mess. Stop staring at my daughter like she's a good to be bought. You don't want to make my husband angry. He's liable to throw you outside naked in the snow."
"Wouldn't be the first time that's happened," Dagur snickered. Vivian groaned which made Jon make a questioning noise. She said several strings of their language only for him to try and cover a snicker.
"Both of you are terrible. Now! You are injured and need your rest. The faster you heal, the faster you can move around and pull your own weight."
"But I-" Vivian stood up and glared at him. Her eyes could slice a man up without the need of a sword. "Yes ma'am."
"Good. Jon will be here to keep an eye on you."
"That's comforting," he sighed as he laid back down, this time with a pillow and additional blanket.
Vivian ignored him and walked to Jon. She spoke to him before placing a kiss on his cheek. He waved his hands, shooing her away, before he went and sat where Iris had been sitting. Wordlessly he stared at Dagur who stared back. He gave the man a little wave and a grin but he continued to stare at him.
"This is going to be a long night," Dagur grumbled. He turned his head and stared at the shelves, studying the strange objects.
His mind wandered to Iris, his not Valkyrie. She was beautiful, her eyes full of excitement and curiosity and an eager grin on her lips. She was the perfect blend of the two serious people here with an outgoing personality that contrasted with their more icy demenars. However she was shorter than the two and shorter than him. It just added to that outgoing bubbly personality of hers.
I wonder what they were saying. He wished he could speak whatever language it was they spoke. Some of the words seemed familiar but he wasn't positive. He looked back at Jon, who was still staring at him. Maybe he could learn while being watched.
"What's that?" he asked pointing at a set of antlers that hung on the wall. Jon frowned at him before looking at what he was pointing at. He said something before looking back at Dagur with a frown. "What is that?"
"Antlers," Jon said slowly. He got up and pulled another set out of a basket. "Antlers."
"Antlers," Dagur said slowly. "Deer?" Jon frowned until Dagur put his hands on his head to mimic the antlers. "Deer?"
"Deer," Jon said with a nod. He eyed Dagur for a moment before saying another word, holding the antlers still. He repeated it while gesturing to the antlers.
"Buck," Dagur said. Jon nodded almost eagerly before coughing and straightening his back. He looked at the blankets that covered him before plucking at them. "What are these?"
"Blankets." He repeated Jon's words while studying the material used.
He soaked in the new words as he pointed at different things. Jon taught him the name for each thing before suddenly pointing at things Dagur asked him about. The man wanted him to tell him, to test his memory. This made him grin as he correctly said the right words. Finally Jon got up and left the room for a second. He returned with a strange looking pipe, his face serious.
"Gun," he said, tapping the object. "Dangerous. Fire bow."
Dagur stared at it in mild awe. That was something Jon, who he was respecting more each second, treated carefully. The scent of sulfur and something else wafted from the object. He wanted to touch it but Jon kept it a good distance from him. Once he trusted him more maybe, maybe then he could see this gun that was a fire bow.
