Chapter Twelve

AN: Heads up: I'm delving into Tamsin's past a little more and in doing so making up a lot of things.

It took Bo a moment to realize where she was as she slowly began to wake. But then she felt the gentle weight atop her and the hair tickling her cheek and she remembered: the confession, the tears. The forgiveness.

Bo idly ran her fingers through the blonde strands that had come loose from Tamsin's usually immaculate bun. The Valkyrie looked both peaceful and vulnerable in her sleep, and the succubus could just barely make out the remnants of tear tracks on her face. Heart aching for the woman in her arms, Bo pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her a little closer. Just having Tamsin in her embrace eased the turmoil in her mind. As emotionally hectic as the day had been, something about the blonde soothed Bo into calm acceptance. It wasn't that she didn't care – far from it. Tamsin just took the burden away.

The thought made Bo sigh. She couldn't even begin to imagine the burden Tamsin had been carrying: the weight of unspoken guilt left to tear her apart inside until even the Valkyrie couldn't stand the agony. The succubus hoped she could take away as much of Tamsin's pain as the Valkyrie had Bo's.

Deciding that she wanted to do something nice for Tamsin, Bo carefully slid from beneath the blonde, managing to free herself without disturbing her. Giving the Valkyrie one last fond look, the succubus made her way to the kitchen, figuring that she'd surprise Tamsin with dinner. It was only when she opened the fridge door that she remembered she had no idea how to cook.

Bo took a deep, determined breath as she surveyed her options. Bacon? No, I'd burn it. There are eggs left, except we had omelets for breakfast. But I could scramble some. How hard could it be? The succubus cringed as the doom-ensuring phrase passed through her head before she could stop it.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Bo yelped and spun around, hand over her heart. "Dammit, Tamsin, you scared me!"

"Sorry," the Valkyrie replied, but her tone and barely-suppressed smile suggested that she wasn't quite. "So whatcha doin'?"

"Um…well…I thought maybe I could make us some dinner."

Tamsin gave her a rightfully skeptical look. "Bo, you can't cook."

"Yes, I know, I just…wanted to do something, I guess," she shrugged, embarrassed.

The shy, joyful smile that lit the Valkyrie's face made Bo's heart flutter in her chest. "I can teach you that, too, succulette." She looked over the succubus's shoulder to see what she had to work with. "If you don't mind having the same meal twice, omelets are easy enough to make."

"I thought eggs might be the one thing I couldn't mess up," Bo admitted.

Tamsin chuckled. "They're easy to overcook, but as long as you have the stove on low, you'll be fine."

"And you've already lost me."

The Valkyrie full-out giggled this time, and Bo felt her heart do that weird fluttery thing again. "Don't worry, succubus, I won't let you set my kitchen on fire."

The next half-hour was spent in comfortable conversation and light laughter as Tamsin guided Bo in the cooking of two omelets. She showed her how to grease the pan, exactly what temperature the stove should be, exactly how to beat and pour the eggs, and when to add the ingredients. Tamsin showed her two different ways to make them – one for the Valkyrie's, one for Bo's – and soon the succubus had succeeded in making two near-perfect omelets. Bo couldn't stop grinning at her creations as she and Tamsin sat down to eat. She couldn't stare at Tamsin's for long, though, 'cause the Valkyrie inhaled it as she did all food.

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Bo asked as she watched the omelet disappear.

Tamsin nodded. "Tastes awesome," she replied around a mouthful of egg-and-cheese goodness. "Next time I'll show you how to fry the bacon to put in it, too."

Bo rolled her eyes even as she chuckled. "You and bacon, Tamsin. I'll never understand it."

"And I'll never understand why you don't love it," the Valkyrie shot back with a grin. She watched for a moment as Bo continued to eat. "Go raibh maith agat, mo laoch," she finally murmured with a softer smile.

Bo tilted her head in curiosity. "I understand 'go raibh maith agat,' but what does 'mo laoch' mean?"

Tamsin's smile turned mysterious. "I'll tell you someday, succulette, I promise. But really…thank you. For everything."

Touched by her gratitude even as she understood the Valkyrie's reluctance to talk about the afternoon's events, Bo reached across the kitchen island and grabbed the blonde's hand. "Anytime, Tamsin."

…

Tamsin changed to her usual tee and sweats while Bo chose the still-infuriating black nightie ("Isn't it about time you washed that thing, succulette?" "Huh? Oh. I have four.") and crawled into bed for an early night. Bo wrapped herself around Tamsin without preamble and the Valkyrie returned her embrace, stroking the succubus's hair. There was silence for a bit before Bo asked, "So what was your family like?"

Tamsin huffed a laugh. "If you're looking for a sweet, happy story to make up for today, you're not gonna get one."

"I figured that," Bo agreed. "I just…it seems like everyone but me knew about my family, and I guess…I just wonder about yours."

Tamsin had long given up trying to deny Bo whatever she asked, but she didn't mind. If there was anyone she felt safe enough telling her story, it was the succubus. "Where do you want me to start?"

Bo thought for a moment. "What's your last name? I don't think I've ever heard your full name."

"Valkyries' surnames come from our mothers' names. My last name is Sigrúnsdatter – literally 'daughter of Sigrún.'"

"So what was your mother's last name?"

"Brynsdatter."

"And her last name?"

Tamsin shifted uncomfortably. "Promise not to tell?" Bo nodded her assent, but it was still a moment before the Valkyrie admitted, "Freyasdatter."

"Freyasdatter?!" Bo repeated. "Isn't Freya the goddess of all Valkyries or something?"

"Wow, look at you and your Norse knowledge, succubabe. Yes, she is, and all Valkyries are her descendants. Not everyone is as close as I am, though. Acacia was her fifth-great granddaughter and Kayleigh's mom was something like her sixteenth-great granddaughter."

"Kayleigh's mom was a Valkyrie?" Bo frowned in surprise.

"Mm-hm."

"So does Kayleigh take her mother's name?"

"Not quite. Non-Valkyrie children with Valkyrie mothers have the option of taking the name 'Valkyrsdatter' or 'Valkyrsen' – 'Valkyrie's daughter' or 'Valkyrie's son.' It's more of a title than a surname, though. Kayleigh could gain a lot of power just by throwing 'Valkyrsdatter' around, but it's not her style. She took her dad's name instead."

"So all Valkyries take their mothers' names and not their fathers'?"

"Most Valkyries have no idea who their father is." At Bo's startled expression, Tamsin continued, "Most Valkyries' fathers were warriors that their mothers decided to spend the night with for fun. The majority of them went and died in battle. Valkyries would have children with different warriors over the course of their lifetimes, and that could be across millennia."

"What, so they were just furthering the line or something?" Bo quipped.

"And because sex is fun. Valkyries spend so much time around warriors that they're almost expected to bed a few."

"So your father…?"

"A Viking soldier. Modir – that's what we called our mothers; it's an old Viking word – told me she was drawn to him for his wit as much as his looks and skill with a sword. He died in battle the day she found out she was pregnant. She told him after she'd dropped him off in Valhalla and he was pretty excited. Told her to make sure that boy or girl, Valkyrie or not, I would be strong enough to take down a man his size bare-handed."

"Can you?" Bo teased.

Tamsin grinned. "Easily."

"So did your mother raise you on her own? I know you found your weapon in that hall in Valhalla, but did you live there, too?"

"Yup. Modir dropped me off in Valhalla to be trained with the other Valkyries and then went on her merry way."

"She just left you?" Bo asked, distressed. "She didn't even come to visit you?"

"She came to visit for a few weeks once a year. We would spend time together and she'd test me on what I'd learned and even teach me a little bit herself. She only missed one year and I learned later it was 'cause she'd been reborn into her last life. She made up for it by flying me around Valhalla." Tamsin still remembered that day, even millennia later. Her mother had made sure to hold her daughter safely away from her wings before launching them both in the air and gliding them over the vast fields of Valhalla. Tamsin had laughed in delight the whole time, spreading her arms out as if she could fly, too. They had circled the main hall before venturing farther out, soaring over lush forests and battlefields and warriors' halls. After they'd landed, Tamsin had begged to do it again every single day. Her mother had laughed and told her maybe. It was the only time they'd gone flying together.

"Then one day she came to Valhalla to stay," Tamsin continued in a murmur, "but this time as a fallen warrior. I tried to get to her as she walked to the main hall, but Acacia wouldn't let me. Modir saw me and she put her fist over her heart and bowed: a Valkyrie salute and sign of respect. And then she was in the hall where I wasn't allowed to go. I drew my sword on Acacia and dueled her for hours, lost in my rage. I fought her until I couldn't hold my sword up, and then I still tried to fight her. That was my first lesson in channeling anger, Acacia told me as I was lying on the ground. She said Modir would have been proud of how hard I fought and then she just left me to reconcile my grief." Tamsin sighed. "Valkyries are taught to block most emotions, but I was still a kid, and that was pain unlike I'd ever felt."

Bo held Tamsin tighter, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and unlike everyone else who'd ever said it, Tamsin knew she meant it.

After allowing the Valkyrie a moment of contemplative silence, Bo asked, "So, if Valkyries were always having children, did you have any half-siblings?"

"A lot, but none are Valkyries. A lot of times a Valkyrie will leave her non-Valkyrie child with the father or on someone's doorstep. War just isn't the sort of life for a kid."

"How can you tell if a baby's a Valkyrie if they're only just born?"

"Valkyries are born with their true faces. We don't gain the ability to mask it until we're about a week old."

"So what happens to the other children? Do they ever find out about their mothers?"

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no. If they're left with their warrior fathers, the warriors will usually go on and on about their parentage, which is really awkward if the warrior has a wife already." Both women laughed at this before Tamsin continued, "If the child is just left on a random person's doorstep, then sometimes he or she will never find out at all. Sometimes Valkyries will leave a note with the child's name or the Valkyrie's name should the kid ever want to go looking for her. A lot of people have this misconception that Valkyries give away their kids because they don't want them – and some do – but most do it to keep them safe."

"What happens if the children go looking for their mothers?"

"If a Fae finds his or her mother, they can ask to be claimed. More often than not the Valkyrie will happily accept, and that's how a Fae gains the title Valkyrsdatter or Valkyrsen."

"Did your mother ever claim any of your siblings?"

"No, but I claimed one as kin in my mother's stead. Her name was Lily, a fire Fae, and she was the only half-sibling I ever met. My mother had died by the time she came looking for her, but I was able to claim Lily as half-sister, so she got the title Valkyrsdatter."

"Is she nice?"

"I only met her the once at this little tavern in Iceland. She wanted to know about her mother, so I told her all the stories I could think of. That was really the only purpose for us meeting; she was surprised when I offered to claim her."

Bo grinned fondly at the Valkyrie. "You offered? That's sweet, Tamsin."

"Yeah, whatever," Tamsin brushed it off, glad that the succubus couldn't see her blush.

"So Kayleigh's mom claimed her?"

"Alexandra was married, which was pretty rare among Valkyries." Tamsin had almost said "bonded" but managed to stop herself just in time. "Kayleigh didn't have to be claimed; she inherently got the title."

"Why is it so rare – oh, wait, the no emotions thing, right?" Bo realized.

"Yeah, something like that," Tamsin eluded. The conversation was straying far too close to her own feelings for her liking. To her relief, the succubus didn't press further, instead thinking in silence about all she'd just learned.

"So do you have any kids running around out there?" Bo finally asked, her voice surprisingly timid.

Tamsin smiled. "Not a one, succubus."

Bo sighed in relief. She wasn't sure why it made her so happy, but hearing that Tamsin had never had children relaxed her somehow.

Tamsin, for her part, wasn't sure why Bo seemed so relieved that she hadn't had children, but the fact that she was made the Valkyrie's heart a little lighter.

According to a helpful online dictionary, the Viking word for "mother" is "móðir," which I changed to "modir" for pronunciation and typing purposes. I chose omelets because they are the only things I can cook without screwing up.