Sleeping, Vytis was sleeping; she'd coaxed him underneath a veil of sleep shortly after she'd answered his query. Almedha was troubled that he'd seen that far into her memories, troubled that he'd seen the blond Valkyrie before she had time to prepare him to face her. She'd needed time to think on what to do and what to tell him, to buy herself time and give him a temporary sense of peace she'd compelled him into a dreamless sleep. Almedha wasn't sure he'd thank her for it or not but for now the Valkyrie was her dilemma to consider. The trouble was how to explain to Vytis what she did not know herself, she didn't have answers for all the questions that had sprung into his mind the instant he'd seen the Valkyrie.

What was the Valkyrie's name? Well she had hardly crossed centuries of battlefields and exchanged introductions with the Battle Maiden. That was too close to suicide for her comfort; truthfully no matter how powerful she was she wasn't unlike any other vampire she didn't want to draw too close to the Valkyrie. That was the other part that puzzled her as much as it puzzled Vytis. Both of them had crossed paths, crossed blades with the Lady Valkyrie but neither of their recollections were the same. The Valkyrie that Vytis remembered taking him was NOT the blond she'd seen and fought these long years. Was there more than one? She couldn't even answer that.

Her first reaction was to shrug off Vytis recollection as faulty, after all he was a mortal or had been and they weren't the best when it came to observations that transcended beyond the physical world. Her mind couldn't accept that though, Vytis had always had an extraordinary mind as a mortal and she couldn't see him making a muddle of remembering the Valkyrie's appearance to such a degree. That indicated that there was likely more than one Valkyrie, not that she'd ever heard of more than one upon Midgard. She hoped that was the case, dealing with one Valkyrie was hard enough. The fact that Hel's assault on Midgard had been so successful was from the fact that the lone Valkyrie was stretched thin, very thin, her time and skills were on high demand and they were keeping her VERY busy.

So how a Valkyrie had come to possess a likeness or wear a guise similar to Vytis' beloved was beyond her. She bitterly wished she had an answer because she had no clue how to turn what she told him to her benefit. Every action she had done, every memory she had chosen to show had been done with strategic intent. She didn't want to change that game plan now. Behind her she heard the approach of Sid'ren, she knew it was the female warrior's approach from the mere pressure of her feet when she moved; it was too light to be any male and too swift to be a majority of the young accompanying her. Almedha turned her head slightly, looking over her shoulder in the direction of Sid'ren's approach, "What is it?"

"Lady Hel demands to know why we haven't opened the gateway yet. She was most insistent that we not tarry or delay any further."

Almedha sighed though the news Sid'ren brought was promising in its own strange way. The fact that Hel had not known what she was doing, that Hel did not know she'd made a convert by blood meant that truly she'd sired Vytis free of 'blood oath', Hel did not know of him but she was not in the clear yet and for now she had to remain there, "What did you tell her?"

"That you were weary, in need of repast and rest," of course, Sid'ren would never betray her willingly and she knew it. Sid'ren loathed Hel with such fervor that it was almost unnatural until Almedha remembered the source. What Sid'ren had lost to the goddess was of such value that she had nothing to lose and everything to gain from success; it made the young vampiress a most dangerous enemy for Hel and a priceless ally for Almedha.

Almedha softly laid Vytis upon the ground, removing his weight from her lap with the gentle tenderness of a parent laying their child to rest while hoping to refrain from waking the child, "Watch over him, Sid'ren, see that no harm comes to him while I prepare for the ritual."

"What do you see in him?"

"I see in him our freedom from Hel," she said levelly with a sidelong look at Sid'ren.

There was a pause, if she wasn't mistaken she'd shocked her second-in-command, "He is your chosen one?" Sid'ren obviously seemed to expect that she'd choose someone experienced or strong, there was shock where Sid'ren rarely even allowed herself the novelty of expression of any kind. Almedha couldn't blame her with the mistress they shared; Queen Hel was enough of a threat without aid.

"Yes. For the greater good, for the freedom of us all, I will step down from my place of leadership and he, he shall take my place but he must be prepared to step into the shoes we place before him, to walk the path we expect of him. He is our future but he must be protected while he grows to that point in time. His name is Brahms, know him well, he will be King of Vampires, Lord of All Undead," yes, she liked the name she'd bestowed; it fit him much better than Vytis. Vytis…the name was too soft, too delicate. He had to be perceived as strong, he had to BE strong in truth. In the end he was no longer that mortal man.

Almedha turned to behold Sid'ren's expression firsthand; it would pain her to lose such a useful and powerful ally. If Sid'ren did not display the same loyalty to Brahms as she did to herself then Sid'ren could not be trusted, if she could not be trusted she was worthless. Sid'ren was nearly inscrutable in her silence, it was so hard to read anything from her but there was a quality of enduring conviction that put Almedha's fears to rest, "It will be done. I will protect him."

Almedha nodded, "See that you do, when he wakes bring him to the summit."

Sid'ren inclined her head in silence, blind in her absolute loyalty to Almedha, it was loyalty she deserved since she'd done everything to cultivate it. Hel had done the opposite and she'd pay the price ultimately. Sid'ren was young but she was one of the few vampires that would blossom into her powers young and shine like a beacon compared to most others for the rest of her unnatural life.

With regret she abandoned him although she knew Sid'ren could be trusted to protect him without the impulse to slip a blade in Brahms back. Almedha still felt the inexplicable impulse to see to his safety on her own, by pledging her own personal protection to him in the most vulnerable state of sleep. Duty called however and for now she had to play along, until the time was ripe for their rebellion. Success meant Hel would have a two-fronted war staged against Nifleheim, against her but failure meant death for them all.


Silmeria stepped onto the desolate battlefield, after several days of overcast skies falling into night the battle had finally 'ended' or at least both sides had paused in the conflict. The losses were heavy upon both sides, she thought grimly, as she looked at the dead bodies of undead and Einherjar alike. The Undead had been collected and burnt, by now the Einherjar knew the perils of leaving the Undead untouched. In the distance she heard an occasional shriek as an occasionally unconscious undead would find themselves waking to being burnt alive. The only way to be positive that the Undead were dead and not unconscious was to defile and destroy their tainted husks. Her sapphire eyes turned to scrutinize the dead of Asgard's armies; they were not so easily disposed of OR replaced. It was causing her no end of constant work to see that Einherjar were recruited and trained enough to be sent to Asgard.

To their deaths more like…, she thought bitterly as she beheld a few familiar faces upon the dead scattered around the field.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, her lips a grim line. There was an overwhelming impulse in her to DO something about it, about all of this! Where was the jaded bitch meant to unleash the next wave of tragedy? No one could tell Silmeria so she sent out her own Einherjar to scout the terrain. She continued her steady scrutiny of the battlefield, looking for survivors if there were any to be had. Her eyes raked over a pile of blades heaped together, a well-kept albeit abandoned blade caught her attention as an oddity amongst the pile of broken and rusty arms at her feet.

Without considering her inherent gift of psychometric touch she placed her hand around the blade, drawing it out of the pile. Instantly she froze as images impressed themselves, unleashed themselves on her mind in an almost staggering torrent. She saw the owner clearly, so clearly, the veteran who'd wielded this blade had been in service to Asgard a long time. However there was an unmistakable residue of bitterness and even sorrow. She could not fathom why someone would loathe the paradise of Asgard, would loathe the honor of being chosen. Her fingertips brushed further along the blade and it told her more. She felt a stab of pain as she realized that this particular Einherjar had been one of the few Eir favored or trusted to protect her. Odin and Freya had even robbed gentle Eir of her protectors. The war was getting that bad?

Her hand tightened around the blade, she didn't put it back. No, the goddess deserved to know her protector wasn't coming back. She looked around for the blade's sheath but it was nowhere to be found, she adapted by wrapping the blade in clean cloth and binding that cloth around its edges before securing the blade beside her own. It was a blessing when the images stopped, it gave her clarity to ponder what she learnt; unfortunately her touch could not tell her all. She was left with bits and pieces, bits and pieces she had to make sense of. In this case there was no answer, likely never would be. It was likely the blade had been abandoned because its owner was dead. This war had to be ended soon; it was consuming the best and brightest of Asgard's armies. She did not look forward to presenting Eir with the blade of her guardian, the blade of course wouldn't mean anything to the Goddess of Healing but it was a formality that would give closure. There had definitely been a bond conveyed through the blade's steel, a bond between goddess and Einherjar.

The approach of leather soles upon the wet bloodstained ground drew her attention away from her silent thoughts. She already knew who it was, "Atrasia, what did you find?"

The female archer had a quiver along her backside, in her hands an arrow was nocked in her bow, "The undead are collecting around the foundation of the mountain. I managed to sneak through, far enough in to get wind that the ritual is taking place at the mountain summit. They are preparing right now."

Silmeria knew she couldn't waste any more time here, her skills were needed elsewhere, it would be inexcusable to allow them to open another gate. It was time to cut down these dark ages, to cut Hel down to size. She went too far in her actions. Hel was placing pressure upon Asgard but it was the mortals who suffered the worse. When she squeezed Asgard, it was Midgard who felt the pinch. Unacceptable…, "Let's go."


He stirred, instantly the first thing he felt was a gnawing hunger clawing through him. That was strange to him; Einherjar rarely felt the intense need to eat so sharply. In fact they rarely needed to give way to sustenance so urgently or frequently. His tongue moved to wet his lips as he moved to push himself up, a sharp pain nicked his tongue giving him the pleasing scent and taste of crimson. He almost lazily closed his eyes as he savored the taste with evident appreciation. The approach of feet made his eyes snap open to attention upon an approaching figure, "Brahms," he blinked at the unfamiliar name by which the familiar vampiress called him.

"Vytis," he croaked out of his dry throat, correcting her.

She dispensed a thin, veiled smile indulgently upon him, "Not according to your dam," when he blinked again she frowned, "What kind of sleep did she put you under? Do you even remember who I am?"

"Sid'ren," he was pleased with the way it came freely with ease upon his lips.

"Yes, it is traditional for a sire or dam to dispense or give a name to an individual who accepts their 'kiss' or joins their bloodline," she explained, "Brahms."

At the mention of sire or dam he took a moment to recollect his thoughts and remembered, he'd allowed Almedha to turn him. The very idea of getting a new identity just because he decided to dispense of his humanity and all its earthly and unearthly bonds seemed just strange, almost silly but at the serious scrutiny he received from Sid'ren he didn't contest her on this point. He'd talk to Almedha about it later.

Sid'ren seemed to recover almost at once, "Come, I'm supposed to take you to Almedha upon waking."

"Where is she?"

"At the summit of the mountain preparing to open the gate, our presence is required."

"She is still going to go through with it?"

Sid'ren blinked in confusion at his query before extending one of her own, "Why would she not? The fate and affairs of mortals and Gods mean nothing to us. Her Highness, Queen Hel would be most displeased if Lady Almedha didn't open the gateway, neither of us want to court the Queen's enmity over failure. Strange that you care considering how the Gods screwed you almost as badly as they did me. I suppose I've had the fortune of only dealing with Hel though."

His heart sank almost completely, instantly poisoned at the reminder in Sid'ren's words. Truthfully he didn't agree with Sid'ren about her lack of care or sympathy for mortals but he shared her distaste and hatred of the Gods. In the end it was the threat of Hel's displeasure that made him drop the topic, wrong as it might be after what he saw of Almedha's memories he didn't want to expose her or find himself exposed to Hel's perverse idea of pleasure. Opening the gate seemed to be the lesser of two evils when it came to seeking the safety of self-preservation. He nodded, "Lead the way then, why does she need us?"

"For protection, when Almedha is opening the gate she is incapable of breaking the spell to use magic for protection purposes, nor is she able to cast wards for they disturb the foundation of the gateway," Sid'ren continued walking but she spared a glance back at him, "Einherjar have often tried to take advantage of this crucial weakness. It's my job as Almedha's ghaida, her guardian; to see she is not killed on my watch likewise I've been charged with protecting you while you are so new and fresh so you're coming with me."

"The ghaida…they protect."

"The ghaid'en are a warrior class amongst the vampires, they pledge themselves by sacred oath of blood to a single master or mistress whom they protect to the death if necessary. To the masters of our race their blood is most precious; it is a grave insult or failure of the highest regard for a master to be harmed under the watch of a ghaida, failure is an instant dismissal. The bond breaks if or when the ghaida fails his/her master or mistress."

"Your mistress is…..Almedha?"

"Yes, the master vampire chooses their ghaida. I am fortunate to have been chosen by one such as Almedha."

"Why is the ritual being done here?"

"Queen Hel chose the location because of its strategic placement upon Midgard. It allows her armies to move on Dipan and Crell Monferaigne, the most powerful mortal kingdoms. If you speak about the choice of placement for the gate itself, I chose this place for the ritual, in the best interests of protecting her from the armies of Asgard. The mountain is steep all around which makes it difficult for armies to traverse up while fighting our armies upon the slopes. Likewise it allows us to take advantage of the high ground for ambushes. Nevertheless, I don't hold blind faith that Einherjar are the only enemy we shall encounter. The Gods, the Aesir are getting desperate, I imagine we may yet see the Valkyrie descend upon us."

"The Valkyrie," instantly his mind recalled Hrist, his hatred solidifying, "I will help you protect her…protect Almedha."

"You won't, just stay out of my way and don't get yourself killed. I know you have a personal stake where the Valkyrie is concerned but don't waste Almedha's blood, don't waste the trouble she went to turning you only to get yourself killed, fledgling."

He'd been about to voice outrage at her dismissal of his aid when he felt something, an instant wave of nausea coursed through his body almost doubling him. Sid'ren snarled at his side and pulled him up, "Come on," Sid'ren was no longer talking, she was no longer doing anything but running, half of the time she'd push on ahead beyond his ability to keep up with her, prompting her to lead him on in her haste, a haste he did not understand, "What is wrong?"

"Divine magic," she snarled, it was the first word he'd gotten out of her in minutes, she practically spat as if choking on the presence of it, "She here! She comes!" it almost sounded like ranting, "The Valkyrie, she materialized her warriors behind our lines and I've no doubt where she is going. MOVE!"

In the distance he heard the tense vibration of a bow mere moments before Sid'ren plucked the arrow out of the air before it hit him. Sid'ren twisted giving herself momentum to plunge the arrow into an approaching warrior to her right. Another was rising from her left, she leapt back before urging him on, "GO! I'll take care of things here. Don't stop until you reach the top."

"You…"

"I'll be alright, stop wasting my time! Go!" She pushed him, his delay in fleeing cost her, it had given the archer and two warriors time to take advantage of better positions, in hopes of subduing her. He spared one look back and no more, climbing up swiftly and hoping that when he reached the top he'd find Almedha alive and well. As he neared the top he no longer heard the presence of battle or arms. He took that to mean a good thing, it meant Sid'ren was alive. Surely he would have encountered Einherjar at his back if she'd be downed in battle. Even though the Einherjar were strong he knew it would take an extraordinary and persistent line of events to fell Sid'ren. Relief colored his features as he pulled himself level upon the top of the mountain. Almedha was there, situated and seated in a circle of power, her eyes closed as if in meditation. He was relieved, no battle had extended this far. Almedha opened her crimson eyes, tilting her head upward towards the skies, scrutinizing her surroundings as if feeling danger's approach even if she couldn't see it clearly.

The danger became readily apparent to him within seconds of its appearance, a cascade of lavender light charged down at Almedha as if delivering the judgment of the heavens. It wasn't far from the truth, there was no time to think and thankfully he acted upon his impulse with surprising speed. Using his newfound physical attributes he crossed the distance between himself and Almedha, interjecting himself in front of her, his bare hands reaching out as if to block the impact. A blade collided with his outstretched hands, slashing open the skin of his palms. Instantly he fell back into the rhythm of using his body as a weapon, his hands curled around the blade drawing his enemy in the close quarters of physical combat. It was only then that he looked and realized what he was facing; the Battle Maiden of Almedha's memory.

He tried to steel his mind and harden his heart, to tell himself that he was holding a Valkyrie within his arms, captive within his firm, relentless grasp but he could not. Though every rational thought told him this Valkyrie was his worst enemy, a pale imitation of his beloved she looked and felt every bit like Astridr. He took a moment to look down at her, her face held visible traces of shock, "You…," his heart was elated by the word, by the recognition; she knew him and remembered him. She was too real to ignore, although she tensed and struggled in his arms he tried to draw upon all his strength to keep her there, to hold her there. The effort made his mind heavy and hazy from the effort only to feel an iron hard will solidify his mind, infusing him with temporary strength – that strength didn't come without a price, it came with a command whispering through his mind, "Throw her down upon the circle – the cycle of power, the one at your feet."

The urge to obey was almost instantaneous though he resisted, not wanting to surrender the woman in his arms but the pressure grew twofold – mental and physical. The mental command grew stronger, unyielding, demanding his obedience while his strength was failing him, the Valkyrie wearing down his strength through her struggles with ease. Her struggles enflamed his hunger, he felt and heard her blood rushing through her veins, his eyes narrowing to slits as he looked down upon her. The urge to take her vein was an impulse that grew the longer they were clashed together, the longer she was mired in his limbs. The mental command broke through him before the Valkyrie could break free of him. He released his grip upon her wrists, the pressure he'd held upon them had long since slackened the grip she had on her blade leaving it at his feet while he used the momentum of their weight to turn while throwing her down upon the fabric of the circle where Almedha had been. Almedha, however, was no longer there causing his eyes to scour the surroundings searching for her. Standing at his back Almedha's eyes was drinking in the sight of them, taking in every detail of the Valkyrie's struggle, his blood lust, and the palpable physical tension between them.

The moment the Valkyrie fell upon the magic, even dead as he was to mage craft he felt the spell flare to life at his feet, felt it cross his awareness. The Valkyrie seemed to feel it the instant it came alive at her touch, her feet light and airy, leaping airborne in an attempt to evade the coils that she knew were coming, nipping at her heels like hounds. The trap seemed made for her, knowing its prey and reading her actions. Light snaked out from the intricate script of the runes, rising swiftly curling around her, closing off any escape. Bright and blinding ropes seemed to coil around any part of her body they touched, essentially everywhere: her legs, her knees, her ankles, her arms and wrists, her neck, pulling her back down against the ground where it held her fast before Almedha's smirking scrutiny. Almedha gazed at her prisoner with delight, watching as she struggled and writhed against the snare of her trap, the vampiress mocked her prisoner by giving a small incline of the head, "Lady Valkyrie…I'm honored."


The Huntress had become The Hunted…

That fact amused Almedha to no end, the Valkyrie had come here to kill her and now the reverse would be true, Almedha would kill her as much as you could kill a goddess. It was regrettable that she'd not yet found the way to extinguish immortal life. The only question now was what to do with her prisoner; she couldn't be kept around Brahms, not after what she'd just seen between them. No, while she wore the guise of his departed mortal love she could not afford allowing the Valkyrie to live. The thought of draining her power-rich blood crossed her mind…and then her eyes fell upon Brahms. Her eyes wandered down to his hands noticing that the marks left in his palm by the Valkyrie's blade had not yet naturally healed, he needed blood but would he do it if given the opportunity?

How fitting it would be for the Valkyrie who had forced him into his unwilling service to be the one to free him of it. As a fledgling it would probably be too much power for him to swallow down alone but perhaps after providing his needs she could see to her own, practically salivating at the thought of the Valkyrie's warm life caressing along her soft tongue while it faded from the goddess' physical body. Her eyes fell upon the circle of power, Hel would not be happy that she'd used the power – her power to trap the Valkyrie instead of opening the gate. Well not unless she got to keep what Almedha killed, the likeliness that Hel would be able to take and keep one of Odin's Valkyries for her own it just wasn't likely to happen. The more she looked at the captive at her feet the more ideas she had but truthfully a startling realization hit her. She could use the Valkyrie's lifeforce, and that of her Einherjar, AND recycle Hel's power to open the gateway. To get the army that they would unleash upon Midgard, the one they'd use against Nifleheim's Queen.

"You desire her and you need to feed…," she whispered in Brahms mind, in this mindset as a fledgling he'd need little encouragement to use the Valkyrie, "why not slack both needs, both thirsts at once?"

Her eyes watched him, carefully measuring the effect her offering had upon him. It took hold with ease, an ease that was as disturbing as it was promising. Disturbing because he lusted so strongly upon the Valkyrie, promising because she had to expend so little to bend him to her will. She tried to take comfort in the fact that it was just because of Astridr, every fixation and every action of his tracing back to his deceased wife. It was distasteful to force the feeding, to make him swallow her compulsion after she planted the suggestion so she stayed her hand, allowing him to make the choice.


Almedha's suggestion weighed ever-heavily upon his mind as he eyed the Valkyrie. Even bound and trussed up in the magical mire she was divine, perfect, and defiant. Defiance was something Astridr hadn't shown much of but if she ever had he was sure it would look like the Valkyrie's. The sight of her defiance somehow fit her entirely; it became her from her rigid stature to the disgusted curl of her lips. The sight of hers made him discreetly lick his own, pressing them together until they were pale with indecision. He could have, would have likely stayed their all night gazing at her with admiration if it wasn't for the fact he grew careless with his newfound fangs. While he pondered in his indecision he'd been nervously albeit carefully running his tongue against his sharp incisors. One careless sweep of his tongue against the sharp diminutive fangs split his tongue open, the taste of crimson spilling over his taste buds as he lapped and swallowed the small stream. His eyes narrowed into crimson slits on the Valkyrie in an almost predatory gaze as he made up his mind; he needed to feed and no blood host would compare to the Valkyrie, it was the closest illusion of Astridr he had since her death so long ago.

The Valkyrie's sapphire eyes followed his moves with calculation, doing nothing until he placed his mouth against the cradle of flesh between her neck and shoulder. Then she charged into his mouth, shoulder slamming into his jaw with enough force that it momentarily stunned him. Once he regained his vision a few short seconds later the Valkyrie's once lax restraints had tightened, dragging her down roughly, practically imprisoning her against the ground. Almedha's eyes were a flinty color, scarlet with rage and for the first time he realized that the magic was indeed conscious in its own right, guided by Almedha's own awareness. The restraints now left very little movement to the Valkyrie but his eyes did narrow in appreciation, fixated upon the delicate arc of light perfect flesh where neck met shoulder from behind.

The lesson had been learnt the first time, he was cautious when he approached her the second time. He realized how little she thought of providing his blood needs but he still intended to follow through with his original intent – to indulge in Astridr's memory even if it was false, even if she was just an illusion. Ardent anger hardened in him, it was no more than the Valkyrie deserved for using Astridr's image as her own. There was no teasing preamble, he hungered and heeded that hunger, sinking his fangs into her as he fed at her neck from behind. In the instant before her blood hit his awareness he instantly was hit by an overwhelming memory which belonged to a life he lived so long ago he'd almost forgotten it: his arms wrapping around Astridr's waist, drawing her into his embrace while his mouth dipped low, kissing along her smooth and delicate neckline, a delectable laugh of pure delight peeling from the hollow core of her throat.

The memory aroused him to such a degree that his fangs lengthened, biting down hard enough to draw a gasp from the Valkyrie, from Silmeria? The revelation almost made him recoil, truthfully deep down he never had thought of the Valkyrie as being an individual in her own right but rather an extension of Hrist, the only one he'd known and the one he'd spent years loathing. Somehow that revelation affected everything, he felt bad suddenly but not enough to stop. The revelation simply made him take care, holding her as if she was precious. It didn't lessen the offense of what he did to her but that small kindness DID make her relax slightly in his arms giving him the illusion of Astridr's pliant willingness when he needed it most of all.

Feeding from Silmeria paled in sharp contrast to his feeding from Almedha, where he'd seen so much from Almedha's blood he could not see anything and read very little off of the Valkyrie's blood. A part of him wondered if that was the Valkyrie's last laugh, in keeping herself cloistered from him, in depriving him of anything and everything short of sustenance. Truthfully though he felt something on the blood, some manner of protection was entwined around it, blocking him from the memories. The lack of memory, of connection with the Valkyrie, made the affair of his feeding oddly cool and dispassionate. It made him so badly long for more, for consent at the very least; he wished that she wasn't imprisoned beneath him – an unwilling sacrifice.

His mind tried not to recall that fact because of the uncomfortable way it accentuated and rankled his minute sense of remaining honor, that alone was almost enough to upset his stomach as much as the fact he was feeding on blood now, on her blood. In fact his discomfort was so deep seated that he almost missed the first memories slipping through the crude cage of Silmeria's resolve. Most of the memories were inconsequential, containing figures and events of no significance to him. Nevertheless he couldn't help but marvel her inherent and compassionate kindness and her infallible strength of will, both of which were made evident in her existence, her task as Valkyrie. Silmeria, she was nothing like Hrist, by certain irony if it had been Silmeria who recruited him he might have been willing to go with her but instead fate had led him down this path, made them enemies in the bitterest and most ancient feud between the divine and the damned.

The memories came in rare instances and faded easily away as if coming and going upon a swift wind or a powerful current. They always seemed to catch his wandering mind off guard but not nearly as much when a memory crept into his awareness, a memory his mind read off the Valkyrie's blood.

A haunted figure bending over the dead weight of a feminine figure interposed in his arms and lap. The figure was seated, the face of his dead beloved lying softly against his chest, fingers trailing reverently through blond hair that cascaded down her slender back and spread across the floor. The man's arm was situated beneath her knees, pulling her against him with an agonized desperation, cradling and holding her as if he could keep her fast against him, with him even though death had already claimed the priceless beauty. Those eyes, that person was known to him long before he saw the shadows beneath the weary gaze.

The memory hit him, surprised him to such a degree that he almost withdrew his steady pressure upon her neck, upon her pulse as if scalded. It took him a moment to identify himself, the shadow he'd become in the moment of her death, yet easily he known the woman in that memory, recognizing the woman folded in that man's arms, HIS arms – Astridr, his lady and his love. Ravenously he latched his consciousness, his awareness on the tendril of that memory, peeling at it as if trying to strip her blood bare of any safeguards that would conceal such memories from his awareness. He didn't yet ask WHY she possessed such memories, memories that didn't belong to her but to him and Astridr, he just wanted more and he got it. Her blood yielding another memory to him as his mind clawed at the slippery and elusive barrier cast around her memory.

A slender, delicate blond (and all too familiar) female cradled a dark and small body in the folds of her arms – protective and persistent in her efforts to spare her ailing child. A name came to the bundle in her arms; it was their daughter – Eldrene. Astridr's soft calm and soothing voice singing a soft lullaby to the two eldest children, singing them to sleep while she exerted effort to try to save the life of their last child. Eldrene, born last of the three, had been robbed of vitality by her siblings in the womb and lacked strength from day one. Astridr's body had been hard pressed to provide for four – herself and three children. Nevertheless she wore herself to the bone, determined to see Eldrene live. Astridr's bare foot rest upon the cradle's arc, rocking it with the steady rise and fall of her exposed ankle and bare foot. Motherhood became Astridr and it was never more evident than it was in that moment.

That memory faded slowly from his awareness as he continued to sift through her memories, trying to ravage a path through her mind as he unraveled her defenses. The blood was unimportant to him now, he was scarcely paying attention to the feeding at all, it was unimportant next to the urge, the desire to find and ferret out the dormant memories. If there had been any part of him that had reason to doubt what extremes he had gone to pursue Astridr beyond the boundaries of death these memories reaffirmed his devotion to the task whatever the cost to himself. Panting he pulled, peeling himself from her vein as the last remnants of her memories brushed over his mind's eye. His claws where curled around the Valkyrie's body, having pulled her against him while he fed with her beneath his weight. His grip was so tight on her lax, heavy limbs that her armor had been the only thing that protected her from his claws, digging into her and rending pale, delicate flesh. It was the fact she was so heavy in his arms, no longer tense and so, so pale that made him look upon her with a critical eye, realizing at once that something was very wrong.

Something was dying in her between the magic and his feeding it had robbed her of some manner of vitality. The sight of her like this made his chest tighten; she looked so much like his departed love - it was too close to the now fresh memory of Astridr's own final hours, her own suffering. His eyes turned to Almedha for answers truthfully he had expected the endurance of a goddess to go much further than his own feeding. As quickly as he turned to Almedha, imploring her for answers, he had wished he hadn't. His dam's eyes danced with the light of malicious intent and cold cruelty, it seemed so foreign, so strange, and it was damn unnerving to see that in her. Her gaze in that moment had made Lady Adalinde, his once impassive and detached mortal mother, look warm in comparison. The gaze made a heavy weight of dread build heavily in his throat. Almedha was no longer exhausted; in fact she seemed invigorated, like she'd never been better than she was now. Deep down realization seated itself, rooted itself deep in his understanding, opening his eyes to a cold fact: Almedha had been feeding on her as well, from a distance and in some way that couldn't be seen by the naked eye. She meant the Valkyrie more than harm, she meant to ruin her – ruin her slowly and through abject suffering and humiliation.

He didn't understand the connection between her and Astridr and until he did whether the Valkyrie wanted his protection or not – she had it. Almedha's bloodthirsty intentions gave him no choice, she forced his hand – he had to let the Valkyrie go or he'd lose her altogether here and now. He hoped fate would favor him by bringing her back to him, once he had everything figured out, once he'd learnt enough to make sense of everything. To let her slip through his claws by dying at Almedha's whims seemed to hit him as losing an opportunity, to let her go would be a temporary loss – he vowed that. His eyes fell upon the runes at his feet, gazing at it with veiled interest for Silmeria's benefit – for hers alone. Silmeria's dim and shadowed eyes suddenly lit up – rapt and at attention – tense as she waited, waited for any action that would free her, allowing her to flee. In that moment he truly felt every bit as damned as he was, the damned holding onto a precious piece of paradise, one wrongfully stolen that should be freed.

One rune disturbed that is all it took, his claws slipped over a single letter. The distorted symbol faltered and the entire trap fell to pieces. Silmeria lunged into action, pushing him back and vaulting into the air, wings of light expanding out of her back as she took to the air to go well beyond their reach. Almedha turned her eyes upon him, her lips curved as an almost palpable rage suffused their shared bond. Immediately he feigned an ignorance that he truly possessed, truthfully he hadn't thought it would be so easy to disturb the circle. Now the Valkyrie was free, he waited to see if Almedha would turn her newfound fury upon him but she didn't though she clearly put him at fault for the 'slip'.

"Almedha?"

"What?" her reply was curt, her tone acidic, layered in waves of anger.

"Is it possible to possess, to see the memories of others through the blood of a proxy, a substitute?"

Almedha gave him a level look, "It is…though it's not possible for the Valkyrie to do so…"

"Why?"

His dam's gaze fixed upon him, her tone blunt and to the point, "Because she would have to feed upon blood to do it, she would not do it, she'd not sully herself by doing that."

So why was Astridr's memories found layered within the Valkyrie's blood?


Silmeria softly placed the palm of her hand over the soft hollow of her neck and shoulder, tracing the outline of the bite wound resting there, plain for all to see as she thought about who had inflicted it upon her. Never had she ever been made to suffer through something so humiliating, so infuriating, so erotic. Where the Hel did that last part come from? Though truthfully she had to acknowledge that some part of her, no matter how disgusting it was to admit to, had enjoyed his attentions. That human had drawn out more of those fleeting memories that plagued her from time to time. The last time she had wrestled with them had been years, centuries ago when she'd chosen an Einherjar – Vergil.

Truthfully the memories had never given her reason to be bothered by them until now. At first she'd recognized him from the spiritual imprint he'd left on his blade. Her eyes instantly going to the blade still tied to her side. She'd recognized him from the vision she'd seen off his blade but the recognition got worse and went deeper yet. The memory of the delicate mother with her infant children was nothing new but the other, the one between the husband and his wife in her last moments – that was. Not only could she not make sense of the memories but they interposed themselves upon her at the most inopportune times. Some part of her had felt like her recognition of him went further than those broken memories and for him, she sensed, he felt likewise about her as absurd as that seemed.

The entire attempt to defeat the undead had been totally disastrous from the beginning, not only had she been caught but several of her Einherjar had been subdued and taken by the undead. She intended to rescue them but she wouldn't do so anywhere NEAR Vytis. She heard the approach of Mithra through his meticulous and steady steps, mute and blind as his hands reached out to close over hers where the bite wound was. She didn't know why but for some stupid reason she waved his hands away. Some part of her wanted to say she didn't want him to waste his healing on her but deep down she knew she wanted to keep this scar, his mark. As much as she hated it he had stirred something in her to life AND saved her life, earning her grudging sense of gratitude…


Betrayal tasted bitter in her mouth as she considered what happened between Brahms and the Valkyrie. He'd had made a good attempt at acting in discretion but was not fast enough yet, not nearly fast enough to hide his actions from a master of her age. Her sharp eyes had been able to pick up and take in the damning sight of his treachery, his sabotage of the trap she'd carefully laid for the Valkyrie. She didn't think, for one moment, that he'd done it out of kindness, almost utterly sure that the Valkyrie had manipulated him. A part of her should have been with him, inside his mind, to protect him from his own thoughts and the Valkyrie's insidious manipulations. There was no doubt in Almedha's mind that had she been present the Valkyrie wouldn't have taken any hold through which she could ply her wiles upon his mind in privacy. Brahms was still new to his existence, still grieving over his beloved; no doubt it made him susceptible to the very witch who looked like Lady Astridr so very much.

Part of her wondered what he'd seen in the Valkyrie's blood for him to immediately ask about the nuances of sharing blood memories. Her unease about the Valkyrie's influence on him had made her consider compelling him to disclose his personal account of the feeding or even to slack her curiosity by the direct approach of feeding on him. Both were extreme to consider so she left him be, it was considered uncouth to feed off of one's lessers without reason or invitation, neither was forthcoming where Brahms was concerned nor would she use compulsion yet. She needed to simply let it go and concentrate on what was important.

The next order of business was opening the gateway, she'd expended Hel's own loan of power in subduing the Valkyrie. Her failure to follow through with her appointed task would no doubt displease the goddess but she was fairly confident in her ability to open the gateway using the quintessence she'd leeched off of the Valkyrie alone but she'd not open it for the Dark Goddess. As she drew the runes anew and activated the spell, she wove her own web of control over the lesser undead. Almedha stepped forward and softly smiled at her fellow associates and allies, the rebels-in-arms They were the Royalists, undead willing to risk their hides to see themselves free of Nifleheim, for the mere chance at freedom and life upon Midgard. They were not her friends, never that but they were the supporters that would rival Hel's Loyalist armies and establish the dynasty that would give them new face, new purpose, and a new future…


They left Dipan behind, riding into the far west, upon the completion of Almedha's task for Hel he had insisted upon her divulging Astridr's location to him, upon handing his wife back into his own keeping. Although he'd already seen her safely removed to the new location through Almedha's memories he'd still not be satisfied until he saw Astridr's intact body for himself. Her resting place was far from their once native home of Crell Monferaigne in the Northeast, "So far away?"

"Of course…I couldn't leave her to be discovered. Her safety was dependent upon secrecy so I hid her far away from the eyes of all – mortal and undead alike. Of course the location grants other small boons and benefits, it is a good sanctuary and there is the shelter of caves and the barrier of water between here and the mainland – natural defenses."

"You sound like you are planning a war," he remarked wryly, upon crossing the channel by teleportation – a courtesy of Almedha's.

Almedha gave him a thin veiled smile, perfectly serene, revealing nothing and yet implying everything, "There is a great deal I am planning that you don't know, Lord Brahms."

"I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"You'll get used to it, soon you will realize the necessity of my actions, soon a great many will understand me and my efforts."

"Just take me to Astridr."

She inclined her head, "As you wish," she led him down into a dark cave. With the ball of blue flames in her hand the surroundings looked exactly as they had in Almedha's memories. Although the journey seemed so short by rote, by memory they could not progress fast enough for him, the descent into darkness seemed to take forever until finally the ground leveled out. The place was cold and desolate like a crypt, he stepped forward. Almedha saw to conjuring light around the chamber so that Astridr was finally revealed to him.

His crimson eyes grew ravenous in an instant, taking in every detail. Although she was obviously dead, resting upon a cold stone slab. Hel's magic had not failed nor faltered, Astridr was utterly untouched. Instantly he moved forward wanting to touch her, to know she was real but he paused just before he did so, careful and slow in his touches as if afraid she'd fall apart in his arms. Her skin was cold but he didn't care he brought her into his arms, breathing in the scent of her body. Then he pulled back and softly brought his lips against hers before laying her back down. He leaned down, placing his forehead softly against hers and stared at her, seeking comfort and solace in the mere presence of her flesh. Now he just needed to find her spirit, her soul, and he was only too sure that the Valkyrie Silmeria would hold the answers concerning the prize he sought.


The moment she'd brought Brahms to Astridr he could scarcely be parted from her remains. It was truly a testament of how much she meant that he was so relieved to see her body and so determined to see her live again even if it mean sacrificing everything of his own – his life, his humanity, his soul. Footsteps sounded behind her and she knew them, "In Dipan my blood was spilt," although Almedha was truly unscathed Sid'ren knew that she spoke of Brahms wounds. After turning him, after letting him feed upon her blood, for him to take wounds from the Valkyrie's blow before his first feeding meant he carried Almedha's blood, it meant Sid'ren had finally, at long last, failed in her duty just in time to free her to assume another…, "Ghiada no more but I am not displeased by this turn of events, it gives us a unique and timely opportunity. Times are changing, the turbulent political tides are ever shifting, Sid'ren. I need you to lay your weapons to rest and protect Brahms in a different way, from the threats within our own race. The masters of our race will not like it that they have exchanged one chain for another especially once they realize it is to a fledgling but they will soon find that Brahms is a much kinder master than Hel. I do not need mention they will more readily accept him if he has a strong Queen at his back. I will rely upon you to guide and teach him in the way only a mate can."

Sid'ren paused as if in thought before she'd give Almedha's request a response in a slow and level tone, "It is evident enough for all to see in his actions that his heart belongs to his mortal wife even in death, Almedha. I cannot set myself up to be a victim of unrequited feelings nor will I set him up for enduring the lack of my own. If you want an arrangement, a beneficial alliance, that is fine but there will be nothing emotional, nothing binding between us."

"A Covenant then!"

Sid'ren sadly smiled, giving her blessing with silent words, "Let it be done."


A/N: There will be a chapter in Valkyrie's Flight in which this chapter shall be utterly told from Silmeria's point of view, so that you can have her reactions. I am already anticipating that others will tell me that Astridr's blood is NOT Silmeria's blood. I know this, at this point Silmeria's Seal has already started to falter and fail (as can be seen in Valkyrie's Flight when its released) and thus Astridr's memories have started to escape the Seal and imprint anew upon Silmeria's blood.

A HUGE (hence the CAPS) thank you is due to Michelle, Lotorno Miko - the All Mother of VP Fanfiction, for helping me solve several dilemmas involving a little thing called 'realism' in fan fiction. Whatever THAT is! xD

Lotorno Miko: Yes, Almedha is tricky, trickier than most know. You thought she had ALL her plans laid bare before you last chapter and this chapter just proves you, proves us WRONG! D: She surprised even me! Most of those master level vampires didn't know that in agreeing to let her feed on them they were supporting her rebellion NOR did they understand that if she passed off their blood to another she'd trap them into a blood oath with Brahms (not to mention it gave him a HUGE power boost as a fledgling, to be fed and turned with the blood of the most powerful coursing through his dam's veins). It was her own way of protecting him amongst her race. In this chapter you also see her cultivating the idea of the 'Covenant' you see in The Vampire & the Valkyrie betwixt Brahms and Sid'ren. Part of the reason I gave Sid'ren a cameo is because others were clamoring for her, for her to have her own fiction piece. I still don't know about that, fan fiction with original characters aren't most popular and I have SO MANY ideas to heed already _ *smiles* but you know that, my dearest friend, we bounce our ideas off each other so freely. xD