Ragnar flew through the air.
He landed with a flood a few meters away from Master Tobias, who stood by as if nothing had happened. Ragnar stood and dusted himself off, and resumed his combat stance. Advancing, he let out what would have been a devastating kick if it had even brushed Tobias, but he ducked under it, and lashed out with his own foot.
Ragnar laid on his back, his chest heaving.
Well, this is a shitty way to start the Founding Festival!
"Ragnar, what is the first maxim of the Way of the Fist?"
Tobias loomed over him, his blue eyes nearly devoid of emotion. He'd awoken Ragnar, and coincidentally Annie also, with a hard knocking. Then he'd proceeded to hound him all throughout the morning, telling him to hurry.
"Always strike to kill."
The Way of the Fist, unlike the several other combat forms that were taught throughout Jotunheim, was deceivingly simple. It was a 'hard' form, depending on strikes, locks and grappling to incapacitate an opponent. Also unlike most of the other combat forms, it was devised from the outset to kill with a minimum of movement.
Strikes to the eyes, throat and head were common, as were chokeholds.
"If you know that first maxim, then why aren't you striking to kill?"
Ragnar didn't know, but he saw an opening. He lurched up and his leg shot out, but hit nothing but empty air as Tobias leapt over it.
"Too slow, Ragnar."
The toe of his boot slammed into his forehead, and he landed on the sparring floor once again.
He came to his knees, and just sat there, his breathing ragged. After a moment he finally admitted defeat and put his hands up. A few minutes and his breathing was controlled once again.
"Master, what am I doing wrong?"
Tobias came over and sat in front of him, his legs crossed.
"You're distracted, aren't you," He stated, his eyes still without emotion, "Is it your relationship with Annie?"
Ragnar hung his head, looking away. He had been thinking about Annie pretty much the whole morning.
Come to think of it, he thought to himself, I think about her almost constantly now…
"Understandable, I see the love that you have for her," Tobias said, "Let me venture a guess that you think she may be having doubts about you?"
Nodding, Ragnar remembered how cold she had been to him when they had first met. She'd warmed up considerably, laughing and crying and… other things, but there were times when he still felt that she was keeping him at a distance.
"Ragnar, let me tell you a story, the story of Annie's father."
Tobias paused, while Ragnar looked at him, his attention now riveted on the old man.
"My daughter, a Warrior, but not a Myrmidon, met Annie's father many, many years ago. He was also a Warrior, but of a different class. Weaker even than my daughter."
"But he was a hard man, both in his passions and to live with," Tobias went on, memories flickering through his eyes, "When my daughter gave birth to their first child, Annie's brother Akilles, her father began to train him as soon as he could walk. So that he could become a Myrmidon."
"Akilles soon revealed himself to be a strong young man, and became a Myrmidon. Even I felt pride at his initiation," He paused, breathing and seeming to reminisce, "However, he soon grew too powerful, the Council felt threatened, and he disappeared. By that time Annie had been born, and her father, in his anger, began to train Annie as a weapon. A cold, merciless weapon in human form."
"When I received word of what he was doing, the beatings, the harsh training of a young girl, teaching her that bastardized combat form, I… lost my control," Ragnar swallowed, thinking about the amount of rage that would be needed to penetrate the Masters control, "I beat him to within an inch of his life, and lost my status within the Council, for at that time they had already began to plan the mission to the Walls. Several children from Raion were brought forward, and four were chosen including Annie. Because of this, her father had held some amount of sway within the Council."
Ragnar interrupted.
"So, then he exiled you?"
Tobias laughed harshly.
"Oh, no, the Council sent several Myrmidon's against me, to slay me for my impudence. I sent each of their corpses back atop their horses. After the last one, I made my decision to come here. But do not distract me from my warning!"
"You see, as I said, Annie is a weapon," He pulled out a knife, and began to thumb the edge, "Her father trained her to complete a task. That is why she is cold and merciless, and why she can never love you. Nor feel any true affection for you."
Ragnar eyes widened, and he immediately began to protest.
"But, Master, I truly love her, and I know she feels something me, she laid… I mean, um…"
Tobias snorted, as Ragnar talked himself into a corner.
"Though you have physically enjoyed each other," Tobias seemed to be drawing from some deeply held knowledge, "That does not mean that she loves you. To continue to seek my granddaughter would be foolish on your part, for it can only lead to anguish and heartbreak for the both of you. For you are as much a weapon as she is. And two blades can only ever strike and cause each other harm, they can never become one. You will come together, and then rebound."
"What?"
"Ragnar, though I have never seen your Jotunn in person, Luigi has described it and it's abilities in incredibly great detail, including the increases in size, strength and ability that have occurred over the years," He gestured towards Ragnar's hands, "I've heard that you can heal major wounds in a matter of minutes. Only a very powerful shifter could do that. But, I must ask about these attacks that you've been experiencing. The ones where you lose control. Describe them for me."
"Well, like you said, I lose control, "Ragnar mulled over the question, "Master, it's like there's something inside me. Another presence… it wants me to kill, and destroy. Lately, since my travels to the Wall, the attacks haven't been so bad... But I've had dreams."
"Sometime dreams are more than just dreams. Go on."
Sometimes dreams are more than just dreams?
"In the dream, I'm usually standing in utter darkness," Ragnar remembered, "At first, I'm alone, and then someone else is there. When I turn, my mother is standing there, 'Why did you kill me, baby boy?', and then she turns into my Jotunn. It usually says something along the lines of 'Kill, Death, Destruction'. But lately… my dreams have changed."
"Annie has replaced your mother, hasn't she?"
"How did you- well, yes she has," Ragnar stuttered, "But in this dream, I become my Jotunn and… hurt her."
Tobias pondered all of this in silence for a few minutes, while Ragnar stared at the ground.
"I see that you truly do care for her,Ragnar," He finally said, "But you fear that this beast within you will get out, and harm her. Does she know the danger?"
Ragnar nodded.
"Yes, during our duels, I lost control when she was hurt by the coward Feyd," He paused, remembering the heat of his flesh, the pure, exhilarating power that had pumped through him, "I transformed, and… well, killed Feyd. But the beast took over, and I nearly went on a rampage. Annie confronted me, and even the beast hesitated. When it fled, and she followed… It decided to kill her. I felt it decide… And I," Ragnar shook himself, that click as the beasts thoughts veered back and forth, "I just sort of, took back control before it could strike."
Tobias looked at Ragnar, his hard eyes calculating, seeming to reevaluate.
"Well, Ragnar, that is truly very interesting," He stood, and offered his hand, pulling Ragnar to his feet, "We are done for today, you're too distracted too learn anything useful, we'll pick up tomorrow at dawn. Go and have fun, and remember what I told you about Annie."
Then he turned and walked off the mat, and out the door to go who knows where.
How am I supposed to have fun when you've told me that the woman I love cannot love me…
He wiped his forehead with a towel, and let himself out of the training room, making his way out into the courtyard of the royal apartments. The sun was high in the sky, but it was chilly out.
Figures, winter would choose to start as we're getting ready to fight a war!
A figure appeared beside him, and he turned to find the Hegla Laudstrom standing next to him, a frown upon her face. His brother was beside her.
"Ragnar, I've just spoken to father," Freyr began, not even looking directly at him, "I can't seem to get him to come to his senses and allow you to return home and not take part in this war. You may wish to speak to him yourself."
Ragnar looked at his brother, shocked.
"Freyr, my men will be ready to move out at the end of the Founding Festival," He felt his face creasing into a frown and instead smiled faintly.
"Let's be serious here," Helga interrupted Freyr's response, "Noone wants you participating in this war! You're just as likely to kill our own men!"
By the sky, I hate this woman!
"Now, now Helga," Freyr said seriously, "You heard my Father, Ragnar is not to be treated that way! Although, I do think you should reconsider it, little brother."
Ragnar bristled as they walked off.
After a long bath, he emerged to find Annie sitting on one of the chairs. She seemed to be slightly distressed.
"Hey, Annie," Ragnar said, her head didn't even twitch, "Um, what's wrong?"
She seemed to shake herself, and turned to look at him.
"Sorry… I just got caught up in a memory," He noted that she was covered in sweat, but decided to not bring it up.
"Well, Master Tobias kicked my ass all morning, what have you been up to?"
"Nothing, just spent time exploring Yggadrasil, Eleanor, Astrid and Arnora joined me."
Ragnar felt good that Annie and his family were getting on so well, but the doubts that Tobias had planted were taking root, for he worried.
"Sounds like fun," He stretched, Annie's eyes drifting over to him, "So are you ready for tonight?"
'Tonight' being the first of the large Balls that was being held, the one that the Oswald family put together each and every Founding Festival. It would be an extravagant affair, at least five or six hundred people.
"I think so, but, I don't know what I should wear," She looked over at him coyly, and Ragnar felt his heart jump into his throat, "Would you mind helping me?"
The Styr family mansion was a rather grotesque affair in Annie's opinion, it sprawled out past the edge of Yggadrasil, a black stone monolith. Ragnar, who walked beside her, presented their invitation, and they entered the mansion grounds.
"Hey, Eleanor," Ragnar called back, to Eleanor and Tyr, who were right behind them, "How long has it been since you've been home?"
Wait, this is Eleanor's home?
"Not since Tyr and I got married," Eleanor said, "You know my Lord and Lady father didn't approve of me marrying Tyr, as the heir of the family 'shouldn't consort with low-lifes'."
She snorted, but seemed to step closer Tyr, who held her arm.
It appeared that they were late, and the party was already going on. A man in a long flowing cloak stood to the side of the great entrance doors. When they ascended the steps, he tapped his foot in disgust and impatience.
"Well, my goodness! You are all late, what kind of-," He saw Ragnar, who was scowling, and in the same moment also laid eyes upon Eleanor, "Oh, Your highness, My lady! I apologize, you've arrived just in time! Your highness, how would you like me to announce you?"
"A simple 'Ragnar, the Death Prince' should suffice," The announcers eyes tried to cross, this was not his first time announcing for Ragnar, but the first time that he had encountered Ragnar embracing the title that others had bestowed upon him, "And of course the lady Annie."
Annie gave him a hard look when he turned and winked at her, but still felt relaxed. Before they entered, she looked down at the black ball gown she wore, which was decidedly uncomfortable, but from the way a certain young prince's eyes lit up she knew it fit her well.
The announcer led them into the foyer, which was raised above the dancing floor, where hundreds of people stopped conversing or dancing to stare directly up at her.
Well, they're staring at Ragnar too I suppose.
Eleanor and Tyr descended the steps first.
"Now presenting, the Lady Eleanor Styr and Sir Tyr Nord."
The crowd below clapped politely, and appraising eyes seemed readily apparent as they made it to the floor. The announcer waited a few moments, and then gestured for Ragnar and Annie to begin their descent.
"May I present," He paused for a moment, "Ragnar, The Death Prince, and Lady Annie!"
Don't fall, don't fall, don't fall, was all Annie could think of as they descended into the silence of the dance floor. The appraising eyes that had been present for Eleanor and Tyr were not so readily apparent for Ragnar and Annie.
They reached the bottom, and she looked over to see Ragnar sweeping the people on the dance floor with a glare.
The small band in the corner picked up where it had left off, and no one was really looking at them anymore. Dancers began to twirl about, and food and drinks were passed about.
Ragnar immediately picked up a wine glass and drained it, gingerly placing it back on the servant's tray, much to Annie's dismay. He turned to her as she shot a questioning look his way.
"What? I can't dance sober!"
"You better not get drunk or I'm going to kick your ass."
Annie shook herself.
Where had that come from? A surprising welling up of anger had hit her… She'd have to keep a closer guard on her tongue.
Ragnar looked at her strangely, and held up his hands.
"Sorry…"
An older man and woman, both of whom shared features with Eleanor, made their way through the crowd towards them.
"Prince Ragnar," The woman yelled, "It is a fine night to see you!"
"Hello, My Lord and Lady Styr," Ragnar greeted them with a short bow, which they returned, "You are looking health and whole! How has the capital been treating you?"
"The same as usual, trying to keep the other Houses from making silly mistakes," Lord Styr said, his eyes shortly darting towards Eleanor and Tyr, a disapproving twitch making its way across his stout face, "That was a fine thing you did with Feyd, my boy! And you as well, Lady Annie!"
The Styr family had traditionally been the rivals of the Hninga. At times their rivalry had dissolved into an outright battle, as when, a generation before, a duel between the current Lord Styr's uncle and a Hninga had broken down into a House versus House fight that had devastated a large portion of the countryside. Several dozen people had been executed in the end, and the Royal Guard became a permanent fixture at any duel between the Houses.
Ragnar had spent most of the trip here explaining that to Annie, with Eleanor and Tyr periodically chiming in with little bits and facts.
"Thank you, My lord." Annie said quietly.
"Well, you are both welcome in my home at any time," He turned to Ragnar, and said in a low voice, "And if you have need of men, I have several that would be willing to join you. Now, I must make my rounds of the dance floor."
Then they started off, ignoring Eleanor and Tyr as they went by.
Well, that was a strange conversation…
Ragnar grabbed her elbow and began to drag her towards the dance floor.
"Comeon, Annie," He smiled back at her, "I'm getting really tired of always having to stand around, let's dance!"