Twenty Two
Walking up a mountain is no small task. If Iza had to guess, she would easily say that no human had ever set foot on this dark mountain, with its unforgiving craggy rocks and overgrown vegetation. There is no foot trail to follow, and so she and Edvard end up carving their own meandering trail once they emerge from the forest the next morning.
They had spent an entire day and night hardly speaking, each lost in their own minds while Eko flew high over their heads. When they woke in the morning at the base of the mountain, they had merely exchanged a grim look and resigned themselves to a difficult climb. Iza takes heart in the fact that the did not need to waste breath talking about what to do, especially as she is determined to get at the root of this dragon issue one way or another. Not even Hel could discourage her from this path – not anymore.
And so they climb, ever forging upward even as they have to zig back and forth across the steep bases of the mountain. There are narrow expanses of natural land jutting from the mountain, horizontal cuts into the rocky face where small trees and bushes grow and where two humans can find their footing. It is perhaps slower climbing a mountain through lateral passes, but it is also easier. Iza has never been much of a climber, so she is glad that they can scramble upward one long level at a time.
Eko follows on foot for now, wary of going in the air and drawing attention to herself. Yesterday, Eko had not seen any other dragons while she was flying – but she also had a pervading sense of caution that kept her wings close to the treetops and mostly out of sight. This, more than anything, tells Iza she is moving in the right direction. Iza trusts Eko's instincts more than anything, so if Eko's instincts are telling her to turn back, then Iza considers her path one of progress.
There is nothing in life that is easy, after all. And caution is only just that – a warning to tread carefully as you go about your necessary tasks.
At this point, Iza doubts there is nothing that could stop her. Anything short of death and Iza will continue moving forward. It is that strange buzz beneath her skin again, that instinct that moves her body and pulls her mind ever forward. Iza keeps going because she does not think she can stop.
This is something that she must do. She knows it as well as she knows her own name.
It is only when hunger begins to gnaw at her stomach nearing mid-day that Iza clues in to the heavy stare on the side of her face. Iza blinks at Edvard and pretends that she had not been lost in the phantom sensation hooking around her middle and drawing her to keep moving. Best not to explain something that even she does not understand.
"We should take a break," Edvard says. He shakes the half-full waterskin they had filled before trekking up the mountain and nods his chin to the small leather pouch of fruits she had collected the day before. "We cannot afford to grow weak, not if we want to continue this pace."
Iza hums, glancing at Eko. Eko cocks her head to the side, ears perked forward as the dragon listens for sounds that humans cannot hear. When Eko relaxes, laying down in the sun with half-opened eyes, only then does Iza allow herself to drop down onto her bottom. She is only now noticing the burning muscles in her legs and the sheen of sweat that has gathered on her brow. It is a hot, sunny day. Already her skin has begun to pink.
Edvard remains as alabaster as ever.
They pass water and fruit to each other, taking careful sips to conserve a precious resource that cannot be refilled for some time. The fruit is quenching enough, but they also eat that with care, aware that they had not seen anything that a human could eat so far on this mountain - something which would likely not change, given how barren these narrow passes continue to grow.
Leaning her back against the heated stone of the mountain, Iza tips her head back and sighs, stomach gurgling as it is caught between hunger and satiation. She closes her eyes, breathes, tries to shake of the feeling that she needs to be moving. She is tired mentally, but her body, her very blood, does not recognize the fatigue. It is a strange feeling.
"About Loki…"
Edvard trails off as Iza pins him with a dual-colored stare. She finds his hesitation odd, even more strange than the fact that he would bring up Loki now. She thought that they had silently, if not mutually, agreed to not discuss Edvard's reasons for being here. There are some things better left unsaid, after all.
And yet, Edvard seems to think he needs to talk about it.
"There is nothing to be said about Loki," Iza says blandly with a deliberate shrug of her shoulders. "He does what he does. We are mere mortals and he is fond of playing games with us. Why ever he sent you to me, I am sure he had multiple reasons."
Her pointed remark is not missed by Edvard, who frowns and falls silent. She wonders then if he had just been speaking to fill the silence – and then disregards the thought, knowing that Edvard is not the type of man to speak for the sake of speaking. She frowns to herself and studies the pensive look on his face.
"Unless you know something I do not," she adds belatedly, an awkward addendum made in an attempt to make up for cutting off whatever point Edvard had been hedging toward.
Surprisingly, Edvard relaxes at her words, as if Iza has opened a door he has been trying to unlock. His green eyes look a shade lighter as he subtly straightens his shoulders. "Actually, I-"
Iza would probably never know what Edvard was going to say, because it is at that very moment that familiar, bone-chilling screeches fill the air. And not a moment later follows the heavy shape of fully grown dragons flying from one of the nearer mountain peaks, circling in the air and diving toward them with precision.
The dragons know they are here. Somehow, the dragons knew. And now, the dragons are coming for them.
Iza is on her feet with an arrow drawn in her bow before she even takes her next breath.
Her first shot is made without hesitation, a high arc that is meant to thwart rather than injure. Deep in the pit of her belly, she knows that she does not want to harm these dragons. Harming dragons has never been her first instinct, even before all of this began – and now with a dragon of her own, a dragon that is half of her heart as much as herself, even the thought of drawing dragon blood makes her blood curdle.
Iza is here to be an avenue for peace, not violence. And so she makes sure that her next shot is equally as thwarting, causing a dragon to swerve out of arrow range. It is a tactic that will not work for long, she knows. Even as much as she does not want to hurt the dragons, she also does not want to be hurt herself. On this rocky plateau they have stopped to rest at, there is no place to hide or take cover. They are very much cornered.
"Eko!" Iza calls.
Eko, who has scrambled up and crouched in front of Iza, quirks her head to the side, indicating that she is paying attention.
"In the air," Iza says. At Eko's obvious hesitation and the sense of reluctance that floats through their bond. Iza draws back another arrow again and thinks, Try to deter them, make them go away, communicate with them – something.
Eko complies, albiet grudgingly. With two great flaps of her wings, Eko's slim, glossy black body lifts into the air and gracefully flows with the wind, flying sideways at the other dragons. Eko's wings are outstretched as she turns, smoothly cutting in front of the other dragons with a breath of smoke that is not quite dragonbreath of fire. Iza docks another arrow and watches, her eye keenly noting how much smaller Eko is compared to the other fully-grown dragons. Her stomach churns uncomfortably, a guilt from sending her dragon to directly fight against dragons much larger and more dangerous –
But what else is she to do? Iza lets her arrow fly at another dragon who comes from the other side of the mountain. There are four dragons now, not including Eko, and these dragons do not seem to be responding well to Eko at all. As Iza watches from the ground, Eko and a red dragon with horns turn to each other fully and engage in a fight. Eko is small, but fast, and her jaws clamp down on limbs; yet the red dragon has longer forearms and wicked claws, and swipes at Eko with the intent to harm.
Iza lets her arrow fly, aiming right for the flanks of the red dragon, a frown slashed across her face. Eko does not feel hurt, but that does not stop Iza from the wall of protective feelings that well between her ribs. If anything could make Iza willing to hurt a dragon, it would be her own dragon being hurt.
But Iza's distraction with Eko's in-air fight has distracted her from the other three dragons and, with a great tug around her waist, Iza finds herself spun around and in the cage of protective, muscular chest – and then in the next moment, there is a roar, followed by a shimmer of green, and then a beat of silence.
Iza's mind races to catch up.
She had not been paying too close attention to what Edvard has been doing since the dragons began to attack them. She had faintly registered that he had taken out the knife she lent him, palming it in his hand with a displeased frown and the tense posture every warrior takes. He had shifted closer to Iza when Eko went into the air, but had kept some distance while Iza shot her arrows. He had kept the knife in his hand all the while, saving his only weapon for if – when – the dragons came into closer range.
But then Iza had dropped her guard because of the red dragon and the other dragons had targeted her as being the greater threat – and one of those dragons had seen fit to breathe fire over Iza.
Only Edvard had stepped in, pulled Iza out of the way, spun them so that his back would take the brunt of fire and –
And he came out unscathed. Completely untouched by dragonfire and the following bouts of dragonbreath that followed.
Iza blinks rapidly, struggling to piece together what she is seeing.
From the safety of Edvard's arms, all that Iza can see is a shimmer of vibrant green sparking through the air. All around them in a full circle, the shimmering green makes Iza's mind draw a stark comparison to the amber shield that Eko had conjured not so long ago.
But Iza does not have seidr. Her magic is scant in her veins, making her strange from other women in the village, who are all capable of basic magic – lighting fires, conjuring water, mending small injuries, and soothing magic for babes. Iza has never been capable of any magic and has known that her blood is free of any seidr that other women have. Iza is like the Viking men in the village, her blood inert and stagnant, not thrumming with the life of the universe. Except for her inexplicable ability to bond with Eko, Iza has no magic of her own to speak of.
So the shimmering green seidr around Iza and Edvard does not belong to her. Even if it is a shield, it certainly is not Eko's shield, as hers is amber and Eko is still very much busy fighting the red dragon. And Iza doubts any of the dragons currently breathing flame over the shield would also be erecting the shield.
Which leaves only one possibility.
Green magic. Green eyes in a shade that has always seemed so much more than any other green eyes in the village. Loki suggesting that there are other Halflings in the village. Loki sending Edvard to Iza, out of the blue and for no apparent reason. Edvard's acceptance of Eko. Edvard's defense of Iza to the village.
The thought is almost incomprehensible but –
Edvard has seidr. It must be his magic that is shielding them now, because it cannot be anyone or anything else.
Edvard is not just a warrior and hunter favored by the Chieftain. He is not only an orphan, the adopted son of a farmer, the adopted brother of a Frigg-blessed sister. He is not a mere stoic presence, admired by many and respected by all.
He is Edvard Lokison.
Iza's mind buzzes around this new information, fitting stay pieces together into a new image of Edvard that she can reconcile later. Later, because now is not the time to be having an internal crisis – not when there are dragons at their back and not when Eko is fighting her own battle.
So Iza shoves away the unease, spins out of Edvard's arms, and turns to face down the three dragons beyond Edvard's shield with her bow drawn. She aims an arrow right down the throat of a large, dusty brown dragon breathing putrid, yellow flames of gas, and steadies her hand when she feels the urge to flinch from the snapping maws of the other two.
"Do not make me kill you," Iza warns lowly.
The small part of her that held hope that these dragons would respond to her shrivels up when the dragon does not respond. She was naïve to think otherwise. Steeling herself, Iza lets her arrow fly forward, through the shield that parts beneath her Loki-gifted weapon and directly to the back of the dragon's throat. The creature makes an awful, heart-breaking screech and stumbles back.
Iza moves to ready herself another arrow, prepared to shoot again to at least lessen the dragon's pain, but a familiar knife flies by the side of her face and embeds itself in the throat of the dragon, at the exact right spot for blood to gush between scales. The dragon falls.
For a moment, there is silence. And then violence erupts again, the dragons snapping at the shield and breathing flames over them, blue and orange and awful. In the air, Eko feels a fissure of pain that slips down Iza's spine, but then the red dragon is crashing toward the ground far down the mountain and Eko is landing decisively between the two remaining dragons.
And Iza does not know what happened in the air, as distracted as she had been by her own kill, but there is something different about Eko when her dragon opens her mouth and breathes out a band of molten fire. Thick and viscous, this fire coats the other dragon and begins to harden, locking the dragon down as it shrieks in pain. Eko does not hesitate to slash her glowing claws over the immobilized dragon, dancing backward on her hindlegs when the dragon disintegrates into ash. Dimly, Iza realizes that Eko has gained another ability – taken a new way to breathe fire from the red dragon she had killed and used that new ability to kill another.
The remaining dragon backs away warily, perhaps intending to flee. But then Edvard is stepping out of his shield and summons the knife with a flash of green magic.
It is clear to Iza that he intends to kil this last dragon by his own hand, but before he gets the chance, a cobalt blue dragon drops from between two rock formations and lands on the back of the remaining dragon's back. The blue dragon's claws dig into the dragon's wings, steadying itself as it opens its mouth and releases a gust of icy, chill blue air right over the dragon's head. The blue dragon makes a jerking movement, hopping off to breathe more ice over the last dragon – freezing it where it stand, and then watching as the dragon tips to the side, frozen to the core and breaking into great clumps.
This silence lasts longer. Chests heaving and hearts racing, two dragons and two humans languish in the quiet of the aftermath. Around them, the remains of beaten dragons are still.
Iza is the first to move, although her move is not intentional. Shaking from the rush of adrenalin, her hands go slack and the bow drops from her grasp, clanking onto stone noisily. She is trembling all over, her knees weak. Somehow, she finds herself crouched on the ground, breathing too fast and too little at the same time. She vaguely registered that Edvard has cautiously moved to her side, supporting her weight while keeping a wary eye on the blue dragon that had come to their aid. His shimmering green shield has disappeared and there is a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.
All the while, Iza's wide eyes watch as Eko and the blue dragon stare each other down, seeming to size each other up. The blue dragon is only slightly bigger than Eko, which must mean it is young. Iza has never seen a dragon of its like, or even heard of a dragon that breathes ice rather than fire.
She does not know why this dragon helped them.
Overwhelmed by all these events and revelations, Iza is not sure she wants to know. And yet – someone has to make a decision. Eko will not move unless she is sure Iza is okay and Edvard does not seem inclined to do anything other than glare mistrustfully at the blue dragon.
So it falls to Iza, as things usually do. As they should, because this is her mission.
And because there is that odd, restless tingling in her fingertips that is beginning to supersede the trembling aftershocks of her first true dragon kill.
Quietly, with a voice that faintly wavers, Iza speaks. "We need to find shelter. A place to hide. A place to plan." Iza turns her head just enough to look at the blue dragon head-on, a tug in her heart telling her to trust this dragon. "Can you show us where?"
Edvard's grip around her shoulder tightens and Eko sends her a wave of contention through their bond, but neither man or dragon speak against Iza's decision.
The blue dragon lifts its chin, shoots Eko a look of warning, and then turns around toward the side of the mountain where it emerged from.
And they follow.
A/N: Let's play a game. I call it, "Help The Author Name The New Ice Dragon". It's kind of like Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but not like it at all. Basically, you just help me name this damn dragon. Please.
Norse things for this chapter - a reminder of what seidr is. Okay, so it's not really a Norse thing. I mean, the Vikings did believe that math was witchcraft and they left finances up to the women, so they probably also believed that women were witches and had magic. But calling it seidr is directly from the MCU. It's just another word for magic. What kind of magic? Who the fuck knows. Not me, that's for sure.
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~Rae