Bifrost: Chapter II

II - Come

Grothen

The bright sun in Karth warmed Aztrit’s cheeks as she stood above the courtyard of the council tower. In the view she could see the common people bartering in the busy marketplace outside of the castle walls, and wagons coming and going from the iron gates.

She found that she received common responses when neared humans she came across; intrigue or fear. Although she looked just as a third of Karth's people did, her air of mystery brought on interesting tales of origin that she had overheard. Although none had been correct quite yet.

There had been a time when not only humans lived in Man’s countryside. Though the continent had been split into four–the Elves in the western seaside state of Vertan, the Dwarves in the southern forested cliffs of Hyatse, the Men in the central northern grasslands of Karth, and the Orofarne in the eastern mountains of Narothal, had once commingled exchanging goods, travel and currency. 

Now the Dwarves rarely left their crack in Midgard’s surface, and the Orofarne were forbidden to dwell past their ash mountains; an order per the treaty established only a few decades before that was now being ignored. 

Three hundred years of fighting, followed by forty years of peace. And now, fighting again. Such was the cycle of war.

“Good morning.” Aztrit heard behind her from the council chamber entrance.

Aztrit turned to Kirk, happy to see that he looked better rested than when she had left him. His dark armless tunic was boastful; his long muscular arms bonded in gold just as hers were, but her dress was cream with the side laced intricately like a corset from her hip to the crook of her arm. The slit in the side showcased one of her smooth sable legs and the gold arm bands on both her arms matched the thin gold necklace hanging from her graceful neck that fell in the valley on her chest. The dress hung closely to her curvy body, displaying her large hips, her slim waist, and her large bust.

Opposites they were again. 

“Good morning, Lord Verdulke. You look well.” 

He smiled and raised his chin with confidence. She was an endless flatterer. “As do you, Valkyrie.” And she did. Dressed more casually than the night before, she still sacrificed none of her beauty. Her hair was particularly fine, where instead of a head full of curls she had long twisted strands bound in gold with only loose long curls nearest her face.

Her soft brown cheeks carried undertones of red and peaked over her small nose. Soft angled brows arched near her hairline, with seemingly no hairs out of place. 

Aztrit laughed abruptly as she sensed his curiosity. This feeling was familiar. “Are you wondering how old I am?” as Kirk turned red in response and rubbed his neck with bashfulness, she continued to laugh. It was only fair after the gift she had left for him.

She approached him and patted his chest. Instinctively, he held her arm in place against his stomach and held her upward stare. 

She was cruel. 

And unafraid of physical touch.

Aztrit felt his chest as the calm settled between them. The strength she felt in his body…was addictive. He was home to unfathomable resolve, and she wanted him desperately as a lover. 

She raised a hand to the scar on his face, gently touching the raised blackened skin, and following it until she rested her palm on his pink cheek instead. She felt his focus on her as they searched each other’s eyes. 

Perhaps trust was not built yet, but comfort already lived between them. 

“Still too old for you.” Aztrit said with silent joy. They would have to resist. She left him to stand on the balcony as she entered the council chamber. “Come and tell me how you would like me to assist you on your journey.” Pleased with her chase, Kirk followed closely behind.

Aztrit descended the shallow steps into the council pit, the patterned blue carpet was threaded with banners and stars, deer and wild animals. The large rectangle table was made of dark yew trees, with gothic chairs to match. At the head where the King’s chair sat currently empty, pearl inlaid with silver on the wood’s rim. Boar and elk lined the walls, trophies from past hunts led by the royal family.

She ran her hand on the cool surface of the table as she walked its length and sat in the King’s chair. Kirk sighed and stood next to her. “I’m glad you feel at home.” Her responding smirk told him to go on. “I want you to be our Sorceress. If our circumstances are as dangerous as you stated last night, that will be where you benefit us the most. You were correct when you said our losses were heavy, and that was just fighting inwardly against countrymen that rebelled.”

Aztrit leaned back in the chair. “Rebelled against what exactly? Not dying?” Was it so hard to believe that Men would want to defend their homes instead of other species in the face of fear?

“There are some that wish us to break faith with the Elves and focus our protection on ourselves. I have made it very clear that Karth will do no such thing.” 

Aztrit sensed familiarity. “For honour, or for self interest?”

Kirk sat across from her. He was beginning to realise how difficult secret keeping would be with her along.

It was true, Karth had long stood with Vertan for bonds that had little to do with honour. The Elven King Derkot and Kirk’s own father, King Birau Verdulke had been close for the entirety of the human King’s life, and his father before him. To break faith with them now would be to tarnish centuries of allyship. “Vertan and Karth are one. This war will not change that.”

Eric entered, breaking their conversation. He doubted Kirk and Aztrit realised how close they sat. Clearly their night had been well. She was a fast worker.

Aztrit felt Eric's distaste arrive before he did. His blue eyes hardened as he looked at her and bowed to Kirk.

Aztrit rose out of Kirk’s chair. Comfortable or not, she would not cast disrespect on him in front of his men. To her surprise as Eric finished greeting Kirk, he bent a knee in front of her. 

She nearly took a step back, but he grasped her hand gently and kissed it. “My Lord told me that you were responsible for healing my son. I cannot tell you what this means to me.” Eric kept his eyes to the floor. Even if she was a witch, she had saved his son. He was indebted to her.

Aztrit touched his armoured shoulder, allowing him to rise. His calloused hand held her tighter than what was comfortable. “I was happy to heal him. Think nothing of it.”

He nodded and released her. 

Aztrit was pleased. Kirk extended a hand to her, she took it softly and let him lead her to her seat to the right of him. “Thank you,” she whispered as she settled in the chair. He remained standing behind her, leaning on the chair's peaks.

Lords and ladies of the cities of Karth began to enter, taking their seats at the council table. 

With them all seated, one chair was visibly empty. Eric bent to Kirk, “Lord Carty and his men were found dead this morning, My Lord.” Kirk glanced at Aztrit in confirmation. It was as she said.

Lord Craig stood at the far end of the table and threw a half-broken blackened spear on the wood. “This was found in his heart. His flesh…it was black. As if he was burned from the inside. To the bone.”

Murmurs broke out in the chamber as the leaders panicked. One shouted, “Even from cuts, My Lord. It is as if their wounds become diseased with hellfire.” The seated council members scooted their chairs away from where the spear sat. 

Her curiosity piqued–Aztrit stood and took the wood of the spear in her hand. Its jagged stem was warm all the way to its black iron tip. Soot seemed to cover most of its surface. She wiped the tip with her fingers and winced as it cut her deeply. 

Kirk watched as the council members gawked in horror. Aztrit’s face was unchanging as the blood from her finger slid down her arm and her veins in her hand became visibly black. 

She closed her eyes briefly. It was worse than their fears. Not only was this weapon a god killer, it had been cursed by the divine. And only one goddess held that power. 

She walked back to Kirk and placed the evidence she had warned him of in front of him. She reached into the fabric pocket in the fold of her dress on her rear and pulled out Narwe, sweet lily leaves to heal her hand. She continued standing, her sudden fear making her anxious as she rolled the leaves back and forth in her palms until they turned black from the extracted curse. She tossed the used leaves into the fire of the nearest torch.

Kirk felt her unease for the very first time. She looked deep in thought as she watched the torch’s fire. “Aztrit?” He called to bring her from the depths of her mind. What could have her so startled?

He gripped the spear and understood her fear immediately. Kirk knew this curse. He felt a phantom ache in the scar on his face. He knew it too well. “We go on with our plan.” he said breathlessly. If it was a fight his mother wanted, she would receive it.

Eric unrolled the map of Imrad on the table. Its wide width had clear indications of stops and keeps from Grothen to Vertan City. "We leave for Vertan in two days' time. Once we arrive and solidify a defence plan, we will send word to your keeps with instructions to enter Vertan. There we will establish shared villages to survive the winter."

Lord Craig slammed his fist on the table. “How could you possibly justify abandoning our homes, our castles to let those demons overrun us? To protect those damn elves?” 

Kirk’s cold grey eyes drifted to the aged Lord and called for him to withdraw his fist from the table top. “You are a fool if you believe we are fleeing to protect them. It’s their protection we need. Our lands, our farms are unprotected out in the open. In Vertan, there are impassable mountains protecting us from the Orofarne and any other invader wishing our people harm. We cannot guarantee their protection out in the open. That is why we have lost so many already.” 

Kirk stood beside Aztrit. “But with the Elves' protection, and Aztrit’s help, we may survive them before Fimbulwinter. The winter will be harsh and force them home.”

Rejection and shock escalated the noise once more, as fear became palpable. Aztrit grabbed the back of her chair for support as the emotion in the room overcame her, making her feel ill.

She understood their fear, and confusion. Fimbulwinter was the beginning of the end, and its crisp promise to be the world’s harshest and longest winter was not baseless. Ragnarök would be inevitable. This world, Asgard, and many others would come to an end. This war had many more players than they had originally believed. 

“How would one woman help us?” a councilman shouted to the agreeing countrymen. 

“She is a skilled healer and a sorceress not from this land. She healed the men in the northern encampment last night single handedly. Her guidance to our own healers would be invaluable.” Kirk’s voice boomed over the others, requesting their silence yet again.

Eric stood. “What our Lord says is true. She healed my son.” 

Aztrit silently thanked him for his endorsement. But it was her explanation to give. “Your Lord and General flatter me, but I have only used what I have learned being a Priestess in the Sun Lands. The fast recovery of your men can only be credited to their strength. You do not need my help, but I’d like to give it however is requested of me.”

Kirk eyed her as humility shone on her. The breadth of her river grew each minute she stood in his presence.

“A witch from a foreign land, how lucky for us.” Lord Craig said somberly as he drank from the wine cup in front of him. 

Before he could set it back on the table the cursed spear impaled Lord Craig’s hand. Screams and gasps rang out as he dropped the cup on himself, dyeing his riding clothes red. 

Kirk calmly walked around the table to him as he screamed in agony. The black curse travelled up his visibly pale arm and burned his skin. He fell from his chair and crawled away on one arm, backing into the wall to flee from him as he approached. But as Kirk neared, he kneeled in front of him, his eyes furthering his fear as they vibrated in his mind. “Something wrong, Lord Craig?”

“Lord Craig?” Kirk called as the man stared blankly back at him in his seat, unharmed. 

Kirk gave him one last look of warning. His power was whispered–speculated but unconfirmed amongst his people about the control he had over the mind, and very seldom did he use it to get his way, but Lord Craig had tried his patience time and time again. It was always he that spoke of Kirk’s failure to overcome his father’s shadow and now to belittle Aztrit; the moment called for a small lesson in humility.

Aztrit kept her eyes on Lord Craig as he looked at Kirk in horror. The Lord had been clearly disturbed by something as he looked at Kirk as if he had two heads.

Lord Craig shook. He checked his hands and arms, unscathed. It had all been in his mind. The spear was still planted in front of Lord Verdulke, unmoved. 

“Lord Craig will interrupt you no longer, Lady Aztrit.” Kirk assured as Lord Craig nodded and muttered an apology. "The main convoy will ride out with me in two days. When I arrive and finalise our war pact with Vertan, I will send word to your holds to start evacuating. We’ll be sure to have everything you need to begin life there while we wait out Fimbulwinter or this war. Whichever ends first. Those of you that wish to hold your castles may do so only after informing me. I will not force you from your homes. Solace will be there for you if you should need it. But know this: come winter this land will not be what it is now. Scarcity and slaughter will run rampant. Anyone choosing not to flee should heed this warning."

Kirk signalled for them to rise. They bid him goodbye one at a time before leaving to convene in the Great Hall. 

Aztrit watched as they shuffled out of the room, all carefully avoiding Kirk’s direct gaze. She could taste their cowering as they bowed quickly and passed. Something told her it was not his reputation or kindness alone that demanded their fealty.

"Eric," Kirk called. "Has King Kloi responded yet to our inquiry?"

"Not yet." Eric confirmed, biting back what it was that he wanted to say. The dwarven king was no longer an ally. His recluse nature had assured that. 

Kirk nodded. "Very well then. We will have to visit him once safe haven is assured in Vertan. I doubt he'll respond to anything less than a war party at his door."

Eric bowed, "My Lord."

Aztrit held her arms as she and Kirk were alone once more. Even they had much to be afraid of now. They were all heading into uncertainty. "Thank you."

Kirk walked to the balcony, overlooking the courtyard where men had begun to train. He heard Aztrit follow. "For what?" He tried to shake off the repercussions of stepping into Lord Craig's mind. Dark and clouded; he focused on the wind pressing gently on his ears and settled his mind. The remnants of memories and fears his victims left in his psyche took their toll each time.

Aztrit approached him from behind. Overwhelming sorrow and darkness covered him. She briefly touched his wide back. Whatever he had done to silence Lord Craig was not without consequence. "For being gracious about our mutual calling. I feel that it has brought up pain for you in ways that you have not felt for some time."

Kirk savoured her comforting touch on his back. "You're robbing me of my air of mystery, Valkyrie. I’ve allowed you yours. You reading my emotions isn't fair."

Although he was turned away from her, she could hear his smirk. "I apologise. I can’t help it." She came to his side. 

His dark features with his playful smile made her ache in her belly. He was a damned attractive man. His black hair blew softly as he looked at her from the corner of his silver eyes. “I didn’t know Valkyries had your powers.”

His interest pleased her. “We all read and change emotions to comfort the dying, but only I heal. I've been able to since I was young but it’s still hard for me to use. That is why I've studied healing amongst mortals." She remembered her time in the Sun Lands fondly. She had gone to feel close to her mother's people and had found culture and comfort in a time where she had felt truly lost. "And the fire, well…I'm just talented."

Kirk enjoyed the clear fondness she had. "Yes, you did say you studied as a Priestess in the Sun Lands. You journeyed there?" It was a year's journey by sea at the very least. The last person he had known to make that journey was Derkot, King of the Elves.

She shooed away the thought, "Oh, centuries ago. And it isn't quite like the way you travel." She laughed through her words, "The winds of the Bifrost take us from place to place instantly. When I arrived, you should have seen the reception that their Gods gave me." The colours bright clay orange and devouring plum red, she would never forget.

Kirk furrowed, they had their own Gods? Why would they celebrate a spirit warrior from another land?

Aztrit continued, "Nonetheless, I'm glad I can heal. It’s relieving to be able to sustain life instead of taking it away. There’s something deeply satisfactory in it.” her father’s take on her healing was not the same. He had once told her that it demonstrated weakness. She shook his seeded doubt from her mind. 

Below the balcony, in the courtyard his men had begun to train amongst themselves. She watched the burly men clash shields and wrestle. “Your men focus too heavily on attack. I don’t know if you’ve noticed."

Kirk watched as a similar thought had just crossed his mind. “We can’t all be ancient warriors. Some of us only have one lifetime to perfect our skills in battle.” He smiled down at her. 

She laughed and focused on him. “I get it, I’m old. Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your elders?” His smile widened. It lifted his cheeks and made him look more handsome than he had before. 

“They did. But they never told me the elderly and decrepit could look like you.” Kirk was more serious with his tone when he said this, as if to say 'Come to me.'  She wanted to, desperately.

Kirk had thought about her when she parted the night before. He thought about how her lips would taste and her intoxicating honey pools. He ached to swim in them, taking in her essence, surrounded by her.

Aztrit could tell he was no longer joking. She hadn't expected him to begin giving into the attraction they were both feeling. Aching lifted her core. She held his silver gaze while the world went on around them. Her body began to hum from the intensity of the connection they were sharing. “You certainly know how to make an old lady feel good.” 

Aztrit felt her knees weaken as Kirk stepped closer, their hands touching on the bannister as he hung his height over her. She felt his hand lift to her jaw, his thumb pressing softly into her skin as he traced its outline and made way to cradle the back of her neck.

He pressed her chest into his abdomen. Kirk smiled as she lightly gasped. Aztrit couldn't help herself. She wanted his kiss more than her next breath. His face came closer to her own, their lips only inches away, sharing heat–

"Apologies, My Lord. Sir Eric sent me to ask after you." A particularly familiar young blond guard said nervously as he interrupted their intimate moment. He bowed to Aztrit as well, "Lady Aztrit."

Aztrit smiled politely at Eric’s son, nearly regretting healing him.

Kirk didn't look away from the woman in his arms. "Thank you, Dover. You can tell him that I wish to be alone for the evening."

Young Dover bowed again and left through the council chamber once more.

Aztrit smoothed her dress on her midsection and took a breath. Perhaps a distraction was best after all. "Alone for a whole evening?"

Kirk smirked. "I was hoping I would not be."

Aztrit laughed with him and playfully hit his chest. "Shouldn’t the King be entertaining his guests?"

Her laughter licked his ears. "Eric is better at these things than I am. He's more…welcoming. I tend to enjoy my own company." He paused as she hummed in understanding. "Would you care to see the garden again? It is more beautiful during the day." 

Aztrit quickly agreed.

They began their walk as they left the courtyard and crossed the stone bridge leading to the gardens. At first they only spoke about preparations Karth had been making to defend their borders. He continued to tell her about the plant life as they passed potted plants of blues and yellows as they swayed in the wind. Several large trees were here and there, their roots far beneath the stone walkways. 

When he began talking about the architecture of Castle Grothen, it was obvious he loved his home, and cared deeply about preserving it. It had been rebuilt after the civil war between the kingdoms and sustained heavy damages. Rebuilding it had taken years after the war had ended. 

They stopped in front of a bench and sat next to the largest tree in the centre of the garden. Its branches hung low, letting its leaves and purple honey flowers drift with the current of the wind.

Quiet for a moment–they appreciated each other's company. Aztrit, looked into the depths of his eyes, feeling at home under his gaze. She saw him smirk as she smiled with him.

 “What is it like in Asgard?” Kirk questioned hoping to distract himself from craving to touch his lips to hers. He looked so good, resting his back on the dark wooden bench. His black hair waved along his earlobes and thick neck, and his beard cut close to his neck, allowing her to see his full pink lips.

Looking into his silver eyes became too difficult as they slid slowly down to her lips and he subconsciously licked his own so quickly she could have imagined it. “It is beautiful. The streets are paved with porcelain and trimmed with silvers and bronze. The nights are my favourite part. The stars float so closely you can see into the aether between realms. I used to sit outside of my village and stare up for hours watching it go by.” 

As she spoke, flowers fell from the tree and landed softly in her hair. He reached out and plucked them gently from her, each time letting his hand linger near her face. She held her breath as he did this, hoping to savour each moment he touched her. When he reached for a third time, his hand went straight to her cheek and caressed her smooth skin. They leaned forward in unison, allowing their lips to meet.

It was soft and light at first touch. She opened her mouth to let him slip his tongue in, and it became desperate and warm. He pulled her close by her waist and she clutched the front of his tunic tightly in her fists.  

Kirk placed a hand on her bare thigh and travelled upwards to grasp her bottom. She gasped at his firm grip and slipped a hand inside of his shirt to feel his chiselled abdomen. She slid her hands down to tease two fingers into the waist of his pants. She felt the trail of his hair and continued until she felt the base of his member. He let out a deep groan and pulled her onto his lap. 

As their tongues glided against each other he put a hand on her exposed chest and moved his hand inside the fabric to her hard nipple underneath. He gave a light squeeze and palmed her breast in his hand. Wanting more contact, he slid down her straps and exposed her chest to the wind. 

His mouth watered. If only; to drip sweet dark berry juice between the valley of her breasts and lick it softly from her peaks. He ran a hand down one and dipped his head to curl his tongue across it. 

“Kirk.” She gasped as his wet tongue rolled and tugged at her painfully hard nipples. She buried her hands in his black hair as he sucked harder. She let out a guttural moan as he continued to send pleasurable waves through her body. He put a hand underneath her dress and felt her soaked bare mound. 

She wasn’t wearing anything beneath it. 

He swelled stiffly under her soft flesh. She gasped as his fingers connected to her sensitive lips. "Open your eyes.” Kirk commanded, needing to see the pleasure in them. She lifted her heavy eyelids as her body vibrated from his touch. He drank them in as he moved back to her entrance and entered as her eyes fluttered closed again. 

“Oh, Gods.” She whimpered. She had never felt anything like it. His hand steadying her, his thumb against her neck. Her legs tightened as he changed paces over and over. Starting slow and building up to quick gentle swipes with his finger tips. 

He kissed the bare crook of her neck and took in her scent. He suckled the flesh he found there, taking pleasure in the noises she was making for him. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her each time she called out for him. His pants had grown unbearably tight, but he was determined to pleasure her before he entered. 

Kirk hadn’t planned on touching her like this when he kissed her, but her moans had lit an unwavering desire in him. She looked so beautiful talking about her home, he had forgotten what she was and opened his mind to her simply being a woman. A woman–with thoughts, dreams, and intoxicating passion. 

“You may come to me. I feel that you’re close.” He moved his nose against her neck, whispering as he applied delicious pressure between her legs. 

She cursed as her eyes met his, his kiss searing as he made his words true, holding her tight as she came undone in his arms, gripping his dark hair as he sent her to her release. He bit down on her neck and pumped faster as she let out a long moan. 

Aztrit called out to the pale blue sky above her as white clouds drifted by, falling into the abyss in her eyes. She regretted not a moment of sneaking off together for a second's peace from their waiting war. But this proximity–the pull she felt now on her heart returned her to the sinning flesh she was bound to. 

She closed her mouth as she came down from her euphoria. He lifted his lips off of her skin and wondered what thought her eyes held as he removed his fingers from her heat. Had he been too forward?

Before they could speak, Aztrit heard the ethereal humming of war in her mind. “A moment, My Lord.” she whispered before he could kiss her again, and reached out to visualise where the battle had begun. This every Valkyrie heard as a call to arms.

As she saw Valhalla, its golden walls, stone cliffs, and green hills she gasped aloud. "I have to return home." Odin would not be pleased. But she had no choice.  Her sisters needed her. She touched Kirk's arm as he frowned deeply. She hated to leave him this way. 

They stayed silent as they fixed their clothes, attempting to hide what they had done. He finished first and helped her lift the straps of her dress back over her shoulders. When she looked presentable again he stood, letting her see the scars from his battles on his sculpted chest. He put out his hand for her to take, and she placed her small hand in his palm. He pulled her in close and kissed her deeply. He may not have plotted what they had done, but he would never regret feeling her soft body. 

Aztrit felt pangs in her heart as he held her. Never had she become so quickly attached to someone she had just met. But each time he looked at her, she felt as if he was looking right through her, seeing the entity instead of the warrior. She finally understood what mortals meant when they proclaimed their affection. She imagined that if he left this world, mortal or beyond, she would never again be able to stand by herself. 

His gentle kisses warmed her lips as the wind flowed through the tree and shook it softly. 

She knew then that she would not be able to kill him.  

Before she could flash away, Kirk reached for her. He felt himself worry as her joy dissipated. Had he gone too far with her? “Is something wrong?" 

Aztrit halted as he held her, "I…I cannot say. But I promise, Lord Verdulke. I will be brief."

He nodded and released her. He could not force her to confide in him. No matter how deeply he wanted that. He suppressed his growing urge to protect her. 

Aztrit hesitated. She felt his worry. She touched his chest, "If you call for me, I shall come." 

Kirk held her hand, "I anxiously await your return." 

She stepped away from him and into light and wind.

 

To be continued...