The Shotgun Approach

Chapter 23: Hardened Steel

A/N: Back to Ettie's POV for awhile.

. . .

Six months later—December 2004

I sipped a cup of coffee, thumbing through a sketchbook I finished a few days ago, soaking up the mid morning sun. The rough wooden table was awash with color from the stained glass windows and the wind blowing the snow past the glass made the light shift and change, casting us in stunning multicolored glory.

A fire crackled brightly on the other side of the room, making the air comfortable instead of freezing. Not that the elements would have bothered either one of us.

Einarr sat across from me, fresh from bathing, wearing only his underclothes.

His fingers were tangled in his long hair and I could see as he grew frustrated, dropping his hands with a huff. He gave up on the braid and turned to pin me with a hard stare.

I pretended to ignore him, tapping a pencil against the parchment of my book.

"Etternia, braid my hair."

I let my eyes slowly roll their way towards him, hating how he spoke my name, I did not bother to keep my distaste hidden. "Is that how you ask something of your sister?"

The anger in Einarr's face only made me laugh. He was very much like a child in many ways. Petulant and cruel and easily brought to temper. I rather enjoyed pushing his buttons, though I'd yet to see him fly off the handle. He kept a cold calmness about him, even when angered, much like father.

He never acted irrational. Only calculating.

It was through clenched teeth that he said, "Please."

I took the insincerity with a grain of salt and rose from my seat, meandering over to stand behind his chair. He sat back with a sigh as I gathered his long hair in my hands. It was pale blonde like mine, knotted and coarse from lack of proper care.

"Give me a moment," I said, leaving him to go to my rooms.

There I gathered the homemade conditioner I used in my own hair, a comb, and a straight razor.

When I returned, Einarr eyed the things in my hands and raised an eyebrow. "Are you a barber now?"

"Sit back and let me work."

He chuckled but did as he was told, sitting back in the chair with his arms and legs crossed. "Get on with it then."

It took quite sometime to untangle his thick hair, and some of it wasn't salvageable, so matted it couldn't be undone. I shaved those away, carefully cutting with the razor, until his hair was all the same length. The conditioner made it soft and shiny and I pulled it back, braiding it tight down the center of his skull.

From there, I smeared a thin layer of the conditioner over the half his head he'd shaved, taking up the straight razor, and clearing away the regrowth with steady, swift strokes. Beneath lied his raven tattoo, as fierce and dark as the day I first saw it.

When I was finished, I wiped the excess cream from his skin, and admired my handy work.

Einarr leaned forward, running a hand over his head, feeling the smoothness. And then he laughed, the sound far more bright than anything I'd heard come from his mouth yet.

"It seems you have many uses, sister." He stood, an entire foot taller than I was, and grinned. "I am going to meet with the commander of my armies. Would you care to join me?"

I kept my face neutral. I must be so very careful here, in the den of the beast. It would not do to ruin the bond I'd spent six months cultivating. "If you so wish," I said.

He leaned forward, close enough I could smell his breath, that darkness spreading in his gaze again. "Do not think I am blind to your game. I see through you. I know you. Because I am just as brilliant. I will make you want to be here, Etternia. You will be my family."

"Then why ask me to come to your war table?"

"Because you will have insights I do not. And you will give them freely...if you ever want to see your son."

I gnashed my teeth together to stop the retort on the tip of my tongue. This was a constant—him hanging my son over my head. Six months. Six god forsaken months, and I'd learned next to nothing.

I was beginning to wonder if Einarr wasn't leading me by the nose.

But I was just as good at playing his game.

"I will give what I can," I said.

He leaned back, clicking his tongue, eyeing me up and down as if he were looking for the lie. "He won the last tournament, didn't he? Would you have liked to have seen it?"

For months I avoided this topic. Avoided the thought of them entirely, if I could.

I knew Einarr only brought it up now because he wanted to hurt me in some manner; to control me. And of course I knew of Yusuke's victory. Of course I did. I kept an eye on them as much as I could, letting my ravens report back to me in times when Einarr was away.

"What of it?" I asked.

"Well, he'll be king for another three years. Does this not please you?"

If he thought to trap me, he was a fool.

"No," I said honestly. "It does not."

The thought of Yusuke being king once again only made me feel sick. If only he had lost, even if he needed to throw the fight. Being king meant his death was inevitable, no matter the lengths and hoops I jumped through to protect him.

When I asked him to return with me, I fully planned on him saying no. I wanted him to think of me as something evil and corrupt, to fight against me.

And when the time came and I got the answers I needed, I would help him end Einarr.

Blood was not always thicker than water.

But Einarr was not his only enemy. And this man calling himself Aesir was not the one pulling the strings as he would have you believe.

There was something much deeper and far more sinister hiding beneath the surface, waiting to crest the waters and swallow those who opposed it whole. My little brother was only the tip of a much larger iceberg and I was afraid to discover what lied below.

Einarr's corresponding smile was unpleasant and lacking all kindness. "Even if he were not king...I would still kill him. Just because I do not like his face or the look in his eye—so cocky and self assured. He needs to be put in his place."

"And you think the proper place is an early grave? How narrow minded of you, brother."

He laughed, reaching out to grip my arm roughly and pulling me towards him. "And what has he done other then create a more volatile world for demon kind? He is a useless boy with no ambition and no brains even if he did have some inkling of how to be a king. He is undeserving of his crown."

I let my face fall back into a blank mask—let him believe I felt nothing. But in my chest boiled a heat so hot it threatened to overflow, like lava from a volcano's mouth. Yusuke was worthy of his crown, that I knew for certain. There was much growth he must accomplish before he would understand his place in the world—human and demon alike. Once he realized that he would become the greatest king demon world has seen yet.

I would hold onto those feelings, faithfully, for the rest of my life.

Grinning up at my brother, I reached up and grasped his chin between my fingers, squeezing. "You are still so young and naive, aren't you?"

The anger in his eyes excited me. For months I searched and dug for a weakness. Anything to catch him off guard or anger him enough he would show me his true power. The darkness Einarr used was...odd. Not of Elementa origin. Or at least, not while I was young. Perhaps my father took a new spouse. It was not uncommon for Elementa men to have more than one wife. And perhaps this one had some blood in her lineage that was not fully Elementa.

Einarr's unusual gifts worried me. The darkness was tremulous and frightening. Even using his portals made my skin crawl and itch with anxiety.

My brother did not take the bait. The darkness in his eyes faded, until they were just a shining shade of glacial blue. He turned from me, retrieving the clothing he'd abandoned after his shower. He drew on worn leathers and furs, a chain mail vest adorning his chest and leather boots on his feet. The sword at his waist was the twin to the one strapped across my back. A gift fit for siblings, he'd said.

I accepted it with every intention of slicing his head from his neck given the chance.

But I quickly learned that this particular blade could not be used against him. Because he carried its mate. I would need to find a way to steal the other blade before I could even dream of ending my brother's miserable life.

A life that had stolen so many others'.

I would never see him as my kin. May Hel forever hold him within her grasp and never allow him the pleasures of Valhalla.

Leaving the halls of my brother's estate was arduous to say the least. His men resented me, their feelings of inferiority showing on their faces as we passed. They often whispered and cast furtive glances my way, no doubt planning my untimely demise.

But while I was within my brother's care, no one dared approach me. Not since the second day of my arrival.

One man was brave enough—only one.

And Einarr sliced him in half in front of all the others as a warning.

He was just as cold and ruthless as our father. It was no surprise they clashed, having such similar personalities. There was only room for one.

As we walked, our boots crunching in yesterday's snowfall, I asked, "What made you decide to defy father?"

I stared at the back of his broad shoulders, always keeping a couple paces behind him. His arrogance was top notch, for him to show me his back so willingly. Or did he just truly believe that I had no thoughts of gutting him?

It took him several breaths to reply, but when he did I drew silent. Speechless.

"I am the youngest son," he said. "And our older brother is undeserving of the title of Jarl. Yet father promised him his lands...and cast me aside, as if I were some sniveling idiot."

There were more? How many vile spawn had my father created after my banishment? If Einarr was the youngest son...was there only this other brother he spoke of? Did the boy come after me?

So many questions remained trapped at the tip of my tongue, but I did not dare speak them. If I were honest...I did not want to know what answers Einarr would give. If the others were anything like him...goddess protect us all.

I followed Einarr into a building on the outskirts of his little hidden settlement. The sound of the heavy double doors creaking open was almost ominous, but inside I was able to get my first look at his war council. The men and women who were scantly ever there and with who Einarr only met with once a month, unless something pressing arose.

Einarr, not at all concerned by the people in the room, strode past them all and took his rightful place at the head of the war table. There, he began talking in hushed whispers to a tiny man of no real report. I could not tell by how he looked where he hailed from. His appearance was unassuming—glasses graced the bridge of his nose and brown hair laid tousled against his forehead. He was mousy and boring. A bookworm.

Made me wonder why Einarr chose him as the first person he would speak to upon entering this room. Surely he wasn't the leader of his armies...

I stood in the shadows, waiting and observing. I watched a beast of a man pace the room, his footfalls oddly quiet for his size, dressed in the wear of a berserker—lacking any armor, his hair a deep forest green. At the table rested three others besides Einarr and his crony—a dark skinned woman missing an eye, the other the color of rust, with old runes from times long past etched into the skin of her cheeks and forehead. Protection spells and gifts of foresight. The man beside her was her polar opposite—so pale he rivaled the snow outside, his hair nearly white, eyes the color of opals and lacking a pupil. The third lacked a definite sex, androgynous in appearance, black hair long and braided in a crown around their head. All of them wore armor in various states of ferocity, from light to heavy.

I felt eyes on me, the gaze piercing and distrustful.

The brute pacing the room was the first to notice me and I quickly realized I would find no ally among them. He stopped his pacing, dark purple irises seething hatred, as if my mere presence was the crime of the century.

"This is the sister then," he rumbled, voice deep as thunder.

Neither his size nor demeanor frightened me. "Besides my brother and I, you are the only other Elementa I've met here. Has my father managed to rub you the wrong way too?"

He grinned, the quirk of his lips turning his face into something fierce. His eyes narrowed, doing a slow crawl down towards my feet and then flicking back up towards my face. He rested his hand against the hilt of the ax strapped to his waist.

Quick as lightening, he released it and threw it, aiming for my skull.

I froze it in midair and it clattered to the ground, shattering.

"Fast," he murmured.

"Indeed," I replied, casting a pointed look towards his boots.

He looked down and the moment of shock on his face made a rush of satisfaction wash over me. I'd frozen his feet to the floor, a layer so solid he was unable to jerk his boots out of it. The look of shock was fast turning to one of anger.

"When...?" he growled, still trying to free himself with no success.

"The moment your hand gripped your ax," I said, walking up to him and snapping my fingers to shatter the ice holding him in place. "I knew you would throw to kill."

"Have you tested her enough, Gunnar?"

Einarr sat at the head of the table, unconcerned one of his men just attempted to kill me. It seems these people were held at higher standards than the grunts living within his encampment. They were too valuable for him to just kill off, no matter the justification.

Gunnar, his lips turned down into a scowl, nodded and proceeded to seat himself.

There was one last chair available—opposite Einarr, at the end of the table. A seat of power. A seat of rank.

I took it without hesitation, perching on the wood of the chair as if I were sitting on a throne.

I waited for one of them to question it, to start an argument. But all they did was stare, as if waiting for something. I did my best to not allow it to faze me and waited for Einarr to start the meeting.

His smile made a chill run down my spine. "Today we will start with something simple. You should have no trouble telling us, Etternia." Einarr folded his arms across the table, using a hand to prop up his chin. His eyes flickered with triumph. "Tell me a story...of the time father bestowed you that ring."

My hands itched to hide it, but I kept them in plain view, not even allowing a finger to twitch. "Why would you want to hear such an old tale?"

"I want to know what it took for you to receive one—a daughter no less."

"Being a woman means nothing when it comes to battle, so long as you can kill as well as the men."

He knew I was avoiding the question, his lips quirking into a grin, thinking he'd caught me. The story of being given the right to wear the ring was one I would rather forget entirely. Somehow Einarr knew this...perhaps father told him. Or maybe it was because he did not bear one of his own—marking him as lacking a God or Goddess' blessing.

Only a chosen few received one of the family heirlooms.

And my father coveted them. I knew of only one other that he gave away—to his right hand. Not a blood relative, an almost unheard of event, but deserving of his title. The man was his one and only confidant, so it made sense to me for him to receive the earring.

To think my father would not have given one to each of his sons as well. It was almost laughable.

Yet here I was, a daughter our father despised...wearing something Einarr wished for himself.

I knew this was just a test, the question he sought an answer to, he wanted to see if I would retell something I kept locked away for many years. I could not lie and staying silent was out of the question. I was backed into a corner and my only way out was plowing straight forward.

So be it.

I never wanted the damned thing to begin with. The most likely reason father forced it on me in the first place.

I plucked the ring from my finger and set it on the table, pushing it towards the center. "Go ahead, take it. It's yours."

Einarr made a valiant effort to keep his face the same, only his eyes flashed with the briefest hint of rage. Giving him the ring, as if it were nothing—a useless piece of junk I could not have cared less about—was a massive blow to his pride.

I waited for a tantrum, for an act of petty vengeance. But none came.

Einarr merely leaned forward, long arm reaching across the table, and deliberately pushed the ring back towards me. "I have no need for fancy baubles," he said, sitting back in his chair. "All I want is the story. Tell me."

The items were no mere gifts or prizes. The stories with them were often told over campfires and among warriors. Boastful stories of great feats fitting of the Gods' favor. My father was not the only clan head who held items such as these, but by far, ours were the most powerful.

And to get one...

It took more than the blood that ran in your veins. Far, far more.

Gunarr chuckled, clearly believing I would fail this test of my brother's. But after a long moment where I did nothing but stare at Einarr, distaste so clear in my face that it made him smile, I sighed.

"You know exactly what I did, so why bother wasting my time? I am not here to appease your pets. Ask what you really want to know."

The smile fell from his face. The warriors at the table all made noises of outrage. But Einarr held up a hand and silenced them all.

"If you want my men to trust you, you must give something in return for their loyalty, Etternia."

I scoffed, eyes lighting up with flippant disbelief. "I don't care to have their trust, brother. For I will never trust a single one of them."

"Smart," murmured the one-eyed woman. "We would all kill you given the chance."

"We've heard tales of Etternia of the Ice. Ruthless killer. Shieldmaiden. Volva. You have many names and faces, Daughter of Freya," said the mousy bookworm beside Einarr.

"I think introductions are in order," Einarr said with glee. "My dear sister is at such a disadvantage having everyone know so much of her past."

I didn't suppress the eye roll and Einarr caught it, shooting me a look of pure malice.

They went around the table, as if they were disinterested grade schoolers introducing themselves to a new class. The thought made me want to laugh, but I sat back and listened, cataloging their names for future reference.

"They call me Pi," said bookworm.

"I am Orthellion," said opal eyes.

"Silvaria, the seer." The woman missing an eye.

"Erisid." The androgynous demon.

"And," said Einarr, cutting the brute off before he could say something scathing, "You have already had the pleasure of meeting Gunnar."

"Wouldn't say it was pleasant," I mumbled.

Introductions finished, the odd crew settled in their seats, deferring to Einarr to start their meeting. But the look my brother was giving me made my gut twist into knots. Nothing good would come of this.

"You wished to know what I truly wanted to ask, yes?"

I didn't reply, knowing he would continue anyway just to hear himself speak.

"Tell me, sister, about the boy king—Yusuke Urameshi."

I felt the breath leave my lungs. Keeping my face neutral was growing harder by the second. There was no good answer for this question, nothing short of everything I knew of Yusuke would appease Einarr. And if he was asking, it meant there was something in particular he was hoping to hear. My brother had plenty of spies gathering information on Yusuke already, so what was it he needed to know so badly?

Something only I knew.

Something only I could ever know.

But even I wasn't sure what that was.

And that fact alone made a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck.

If I didn't know...if I couldn't figure it out...

I was going to let it slip. Eventually I would spill some important fact without meaning to. There was no way to avoid the subject of Urameshi Yusuke. Not when my brother's vendetta against him was so all consuming.

He needed Yusuke, specifically, for whatever he planned to do.

It seemed my infiltration into his ranks would be over sooner than I thought.

A resolve cold as hardened steel gripped me. I looked up at Einarr with a smile so wicked I watched the first flash of fear cross his eyes before he could stifle it.

"Of course, brother. What is it you want to know?"

. . .

A/N: My dudes, I'm so so sorry its been so long. I've just been...going through a lot of shit. The stress is finally winding down. But I've been really busy too, so that hasn't helped much. I also apologize for being gone so long and then giving you a chapter without any of the boys in it. But this is all important crap, I promise, lol.

I'm still on a semi-hiatus, because I can't guaranty updates, but I'm going to do my best! Thank you all for sticking with me, I love you guys.