Chapter Three

AN: Pro Writing Tip: When you have the dialogue for an argument perfectly planned out in your head, be sure to write it down so you don't forget. Also, to the Guest who's been leaving detailed reviews: thank you. All reviews make me happy, but you really make me happy. :)

Trick decided that Bo needed to be guarded at all times, to which the succubus rolled her eyes and Dyson immediately volunteered. Tamsin countered him, he retorted, and they ended up taking their argument to the stairwell to Trick's lair so they might get into a full-out row without Bo hearing. In the meantime, the Morrigan, Hale, and Trick discussed what they could access from the Dark Archives, the Light Archives, and the Blood King's library, respectively, while Bo listened in, hoping to glean at least a sliver of information about what they were dealing with. Kenzi, left to her own devices, decided that the fight would be more interesting to listen to and made her way to the top of the stairwell for some eavesdropping.

Kenzi couldn't quite make out what Dyson and Tamsin were saying, but she picked out a few pieces here and there, mostly from Tamsin. It began with something like "I live there anyway," but soon escalated to "I took you down with a glare when I was at the end of my life cycle; imagine what I could do to you now," which made the human smirk. Whatever Dyson said next had to be a low blow to the Valkyrie, if his vehemence was anything to go by. Kenzi winced as the unmistakable sound of fist hitting flesh confirmed her suspicions. The Russian girl didn't catch the beginning of Tamsin's sentence, but she caught the end as the Valkyrie headed up the stairs speaking in a low, menacing tone. "…no matter what your feelings for her are, wolf."

"And what about your feelings for her?" Dyson challenged. Tamsin's footsteps stopped.

"I owe her a few. That's all."

Yeah, right, the human thought with a smirk before making herself scarce.

…

Tamsin sat almost lazily on the couch, her body turned to face the door. She was idly playing with the hilt of her sword lying across her thigh, the blade stretching out to touch the floor. Her thoughts split between the night's revelations and her own predicament: the one involving drooping wings with feathers of coal. Tamsin knew full well that she had Fallen; the issue was acceptance and admitting to herself that she may stay that way until the end, never to set foot in Valhalla again. But there was only one way to make it right, and that was a choice the Valkyrie wasn't ready to make, especially when she wasn't the one who would have to choose.

This is just so fucked up, Tamsin groaned to herself, rubbing her forehead. "What do you want, succubus?" she asked without turning.

"How did you know it was me?"

"The stairs creak and Kenzi's still snoring."

"How can you even hear that?" Bo asked.

"I'm a Valkyrie, succubabe." This time she did look at Bo. The succubus had foregone her kimono and was clad only in a strapless nightie of black silk, the hem of which ended halfway down her thighs. Tamsin was glad it was dark or the succubus might have seen the blush creeping across the blonde's face before she turned back to the door. "I'm just good like that."

Bo said nothing, instead sitting beside Tamsin on the couch. There was silence for a bit, but a comfortable one. After awhile, Bo reached over and ran her hand along the hilt of Tamsin's sword. "It's beautiful," she murmured.

Tamsin smirked with pride, taking a moment to admire the hilt herself. The grip was wrapped in fine leather, well-worn from countless battles. The pommel had a hexagonal base, the six sides curving in to form a sharp point. But the crosspiece was by far the most beautiful: shining wings that curved out and around to touch the blade. Each wing was intricately engraved to the tiniest detail, down to the feathers that reached out to brush steel.

"Valkyries don't choose their swords; they choose us," Tamsin replied. She wasn't sure why she was telling Bo the story, but something about it just felt right in that moment. "When we're five years old we're brought to a grand hall in Valhalla filled with more types of weapons you can imagine. One of the weapons will call to us and we follow that call until we find what we're destined to wield." Tamsin gave a little laugh, smiling down at her sword. "When I was three I managed to break into the hall. I can just barely remember finding the sword and being annoyed that I couldn't reach it. When Acacia found me I had knocked it from its stand and was trying to lift it. Apparently I looked up at her, waved the hilt as best I could and went 'this one this one this one!'"

Bo grinned at Tamsin and the sight made the Valkyrie's heart feel strange. "Was she mad at you for breaking in?"

"Nah. If anything it meant that I was destined to be one of the best Valkyries."

"'One of'? I thought you were the best," Bo teased.

Tamsin smirked again. "That I am, succulette. Well, Acacia nearly had me beat, but yeah, I'm the best."

"Who's Acacia?"

Tamsin's smile faded. "Someone important," she ground out, and the tone of her voice was warning enough for Bo to drop the subject. Tamsin didn't let the silence linger long before asking, "So what brings you down here at this hour, succubus?"

"Some bird won't stop rapping on the windowsill. I think it's a magpie. Those are black and white, right?"

Adrenaline spiked in Tamsin's veins and she looked at Bo with a serious, almost panicked expression. "A black and white bird?"

"Yeah, it's got a black head and body and – "

" – a white hood?" Tamsin finished for her.

Bo blinked in surprise. "Yeah, that's it."

"Bo, that's a scald crow!" the Valkyrie exclaimed. As one, the two women leapt to their feet and bolted up the stairs, Tamsin keeping a tight grip on her sword.

When they burst into Bo's bedroom, the bird was still there, fixing them with a piercing obsidian gaze. Once it was sure it had their attention, it let out a long, low caw. The call was harsh and grating and filled with ominous promise, and Tamsin and Bo shivered at the sound. Having delivered its message, the bird departed, its wings silent in the darkest hour of night.

"That was a warning," Tamsin said without looking away from the window. Only when Bo grabbed her arm did she turn to meet a much softer gaze.

"Tamsin…will you stay with me tonight? Please?"

It was a bad idea – the worst idea. But the Valkyrie couldn't deny Bo anything. "Sure, succulette. I'll be right here."

Bo gave her a shaky smile before turning and crawling into bed. Tamsin's heart called after her and she followed the pull, sitting atop the sheets as Bo crawled under the covers. "G'night, Tamsin," she whispered.

"G'night, Bo."

…

About an hour after Bo's breathing had evened, she curled up against the Valkyrie and began to whimper, caught in a nightmare. "Shh," Tamsin soothed, reaching out to stroke the succubus's hair.

"Tamsin…" Bo cried in her sleep.

"I'm right here, Bo. I'll always be here. You're safe."

At the Valkyrie's words and gentle touch, the succubus began to calm, eventually returning to peaceful slumber. But still Tamsin ran her fingers through Bo's hair, sighing as she did. She knew this was only making everything worse, but if this was all she could ever have, the Valkyrie would cherish every moment.

If you Google images of scald crows, the third picture that comes up is probably the best example of what they're supposed to look like. Also, I wrote this chapter to "The Mummer's Dance," by Loreena McKennitt. Give it a listen, if you like (the pretty, six-minute version, not the speedy version).