Bifrost: Chapter IV

IV - Field of Fire

 

Days after the attack in the Mistwood, the caravan stopped briefly at a pond at the base of Callonwood Keep's Mountain. Aztrit dismounted Fora and led her to the watering hole. Many of the men gathered on the opposite side of the pond to break and rest before they continued into the camp. 

Kirk and Eric arrived next, dismounting their horses and resting them near their men. Eric looked across the water where the monstrous horse stood beside Aztrit, grazing at the yellow and red fruit flowers by the pond.

"Ride ahead and let Lord Craig know we've arrived." Kirk ordered two of his warriors before they rode off. He led Rúnar to the water and patted him as he drank.

"We should dismiss her." Eric stated again as his own horse rested. It wasn't natural. He had been very nearly dead. He could have sworn that he saw the Valkyries coming for him, but Aztrit had interfered. He remembered seeing her above him, praying and pulling his soul back into himself. If she had robbed him of warriors' death, she was dabbling in magic she ought not to be trifling with.

Kirk understood Eric's suspicions, but she was of greater help to them than he realised. "She saved you, and many others in the Mistwood." Despite her cruel words, this much was still true. He called and she had come.

Eric felt anger riding. "But why? What does she receive from this?" 

Kirk silenced him, "Because I asked her to." He touched Eric’s shoulder and took a moment to calm them both. "I know you're wary because of the past, but she is here to help. We need allies, and we are in no position to fight amongst ourselves." Kirk considered his own words. What had she done to deserve his mistrust?

Aztrit watched as Kirk and Eric argued fiercely while unloading their horses. They kept casting glances over at her, until Eric threw up his hands in resignation and began walking over towards her. She leaned closer to Fora and whispered up to her, “Be nice.” 

Eric’s colour looked better than it did days ago. His long blond hair was tied back again and his shirt attached itself closely to his well worked chest. 

“Good afternoon, Lady Aztrit.” He bowed swiftly and threw a glance back at Kirk. “We didn’t get a chance to speak after you joined us in the Mistwood. Kirk tells me you helped me and our injured.” 

“I did. Although I'm not sure gratitude is a trait your lord possesses.” She huffed and rolled her eyes at his stare. 

“Aye, well. Kirk is unpleasant when it comes to gratitude. Our caretakers used to make him repeat his thanks to get him more acclimated, but that only taught him how to get things for himself.’’ Eric smiled as she laughed at his words. "I wanted to thank you. I know I may not be welcoming, but I owe you two debts now."

Aztrit pet Fora as he spoke. She could feel the resentment deep within him. "You owe me nothing. I only did what was asked of me by your Lord."

Eric drank her in while she was distracted with her horse. Sorceress or not, her body was tantalising in the cinched blue riding tunic she draped herself in. He couldn’t help picturing her beneath him with those velvet strings laced up to her thighs. 

Eric stepped closer to her back and reached out to touch Fora’s muzzle. “Who’s this?” He asked before Fora bared her teeth to him, making him back up. 

Aztrit laughed at Fora’s reaction. Women no matter the species always knew when to aid each other from unwanted attention. 

Aztrit stroked her to calm her down again. “This is Fora, and she can be quite picky with who she lets touch her.” 

“Her size is astounding. Her sire must have been breathtaking.”  

Aztrit nodded in agreement. He had no idea. Suddenly Fora’s snout rose in the air and she broke from Aztrit’s hold. Aztrit called out to her, but Fora had already broken into a gallop and circled to the otherside of the lake. She slowed quickly in front of Kirk who had been feeding his own horse. 

Aztrit and Eric watched in astonishment as Fora nudged Kirk for some of the food he had in his palm. She even let him stroke her mane as she ate out of his hand. Aztrit ran quickly to where her horse had gone to rest. As Kirk’s eyes focused on her she nodded to him, “I apologise Lord Verdulke, Fora is not usually so forward.” 

Kirk nodded back to her. “Fora.” He said as he continued to stroke the war horse he had turned into a docile pet. “She is a beauty, Valkyrie. You ride her well.” He looked at Odin’s daughter shooting angry faces at her mare. Everything about the woman in front of him was attractive. Her wind blown tresses, her love for her animal, and most of all–her composure. While she was fierce and often combative, she had a docile element to her. But only if you touched her just right. Aztrit and Fora had more in common than they both knew. “Aztrit… I had time to think these few days.” 

She looked back to him and tried to hide her look of hopefulness. “Did you?” Fora finished her food and placed a heavy kiss on Kirk, making him smile while he wiped his face with his sleeve. 

“Aye, I did.” He said through his upturned lips.  

She could die everytime Kirk smiled and looked into her eyes. His silver irises lit up like the stars in the night sky. She felt her chest becoming heavy and her legs began to ache. “What did you think about, My Lord?” 

Kirk knew when she said this to him, she was mocking the power he had. But he didn’t mind. It helped him to imagine how it would sound passing from her parted lips as she rode him instead of her mare. “Who knew a lady of your age could sit on a horse so well?” 

Aztrit laughed and turned back to her horse. She knew that was all the apology she would get, but she wasn’t bothered by it. Truthfully, she was beginning to wish they could pretend their argument had never happened at all. “Kirk,” She tried her best to convey her own apology through her eyes. “I'm happy I came along as well.”  

"My Lord." Aztrit looked at the messenger boy as he bowed lowly to Kirk. He fiddled with his dishevelled clothes under his King's gaze. Kirk commanded him to speak. "A council is being held tonight at the Callonwood encampment. Lord Craig sent me to request your presence."

Kirk furrowed, "A council? This was not planned."

Aztrit felt the boy grow exceedingly nervous. "Uh, yes I understand that to be true My Lord but Lord Craig insists it must be done before you continue to Vertan."

"Very well. I will be there shortly." Kirk motioned him away and clicked twice for Rúnar to come to his side. If Lord Craig was making demands of him it must be pressing.

Kirk looked to Aztrit as he prepared to mount his horse. "Will you ride with me, Valkyrie?"

Aztrit smiled and mounted Fora next to him. As he commanded Rúnar on, she called for Fora to follow.

Not long after, they arrived at the camp. 

Tents ran through the tall tan reeds, wheat and flora blooming for the last time before winter. Cool lavender fields stretched far to the west where trees met the valley paths. Men sat around several campfires, cooking and swinging at armour stands for practice. In the distance Callonwood Keep could be seen atop the mountain border, its battlements waving proud blue flags with gold embroidered lions. 

Aztrit felt fear bubble in her belly. She could tell many of them were afraid of the oncoming battles, but their sense of defeat was woefully present. 

As a child ran in front of her, Aztrit slowed Fora to stop from trampling him. The boy stopped in awe as he saw her horse, and reached out a small brown hand to touch her leg. Before he could, his mother scooped him up from behind and apologised to Aztrit. She chastised him as they walked away.

Aztrit stopped briefly. Weren't the women and children due to come after they had made sure it was safe to do so?

Sensing that Kirk had the same question, they looked at each other, concern etched on their faces.

She saw Eric motion for them next to the biggest midnight blue tent hoisted up by silver ropes near a treeline. She led Fora to him, and stopped alongside Kirk as he dismounted. Preparing to do the same, she climbed down as Kirk appeared beneath her and held her waist to help her down from her horse.

His large warm hands gripped her waist tenderly and hitched Fora to the post. Aztrit silently thanked him for his help as he and Eric began to speak. 

Eric approached Kirk's travelling satchel and removed it from his horse. "Yarith and Lekepsay were attacked. A force of Orofarne descended on the nearby villages and drove them back to Callonwood Keep. Many of them did not make it, but the few survivors warned that they're still pushing west."

Kirk stopped in front of the tent and looked at the discontented refugees down the encampment paths. Now their sullen faces made sense. "How long until they arrive?"

Eric shook his head. Their odds were minute at best. "Last scout reported they were a day's ride south…about a day ago."

Kirk examined their surroundings. Northwest was the mountain pass to Vertan, east were high cliffs leading to the forest they had just exited, and south was dense treeline before foothills. They were cornered. If they had any hope of surviving a direct attack quickly, they had to discover a way to regain control.

Kirk entered the tent and met a table full of expecting eyes. Lord Craig and several other Lord's sat red faced from bickering about their predicament. Kirk did not sit, he wasted no time. "How many men do we have?"

Lord Jacob's chimed in first, his large gut skimmed the table as he chuckled at their disadvantage. "With Lord Craig's own men and the few we retreated with from Lekepsay and Yarith, only six hundred."

Kirk took a deep breath. "What was the reported number of the horde coming?"

Silence permeated.

Aztrit watched their faces as hope drained from their cheeks. Theirs was a losing battle, but still Kirk stood strong. He leaned forward with his palms on the table, the muscles in his arm flexing as he thought on what was best to do.

"We need to get the mothers and children to safety, and anyone who cannot fight. Our priority needs to be using the time we have left to get them through the pass to Vertan and on to safety. I will send word to King Derkot about their arrival." Although it had not been the plan to send refugees to their country unannounced, he was sure he would be forgiven later.

Lord Craig raised a brief hand, "I can spare a hundred to guide them through the pass. My son will take the lead."

Kirk accepted his proposal. "I have seventy skilled archers that can mount the pass entrance and ensure no one gets through. The rest of us will buy them time, and meet the horde head on."

Aztrit felt swelling pride as she watched Kirk lead. It was clear why her father wanted him. Even in the face of unspeakable odds, he gave confidence and assurance to his followers. Defeat sounded euphoric on his tongue. "Lord Verdulke?"

Kirk looked to her watching from the tent wall, "Yes, Aztrit?"

Aztrit came closer to the table where the layout of the fields were etched onto parchment. She dragged a slim brown finger along the treeline they would be approaching from. "The earth will be soft here outside of the trees. If anyone can dig a shallow trench from the west mountain back to the east waterline we can control the way they funnel towards us."

Lord Henry tapped where she proposed the trench. "But what good is a trench to us? If we get stuck in it, we're done for."

As the other lords murmured Aztrit stood straight. She examined the room and found a perfect subject for her demonstration. She picked up a beaten book, its edges tattered and binding torn and threw it in the centre of the table. "Yol." She said calmly, lighting the book aflame. She tried not to enjoy the shock and gasps that sounded around the table as they scooted back. Aztrit walked calmly around the table, her eyes on the flame she gave life to as it spoke back to her.

Kirk watched her silent exchange with the flame, its clear respect for her burning in its orange glare. Aztrit had seen more battles than any at the table. He trusted her judgement. 

"Toor." She spoke, then suddenly it spread itself into a thin line, crossing the map where she had proposed the trench. "I will light the shallow trench giving you cover and forcing them back into the trees. It would be foolhardy to fight them, but deterring them–fighting long enough until they retreat, is feasible."

Kirk took in her plan. It was a good one but they were no longer speaking about ordinary Ash Dwellers. "In the Mistwood, they were coming from flames. They look far different than they did in the past. What if this new magic–this curse from Surtr makes them impervious to this fire trap?"

Aztrit looked to Kirk and spoke softly, "Shul." The flame turned a bright electric blue, its heat now reaching far past the flames. "Nothing will survive what is offered to the flame unless I will it to be. Even Surtr's flames have their limits."

Eric watched as the sorceress bore into Kirk's gaze. What she proposed was dangerous and dark. How could they accept this help from someone they did not know? "And what of us? What if we get trapped in it or you turn it on us?"

Aztrit lifted her brows at Eric. She called for the flame and held his gaze as it crossed the table, leaving an unscorched book and map in its path. She held out her palm for the fire to leap into and carried it to Eric.

Eric watched her approach as she asked for his hand. Hesitating, he held it out, allowing her to sweep his white skin, leaving the flame to pulse in his palm like a heartbeat. 

Aztrit steadied his hand with her own as it danced in his blue eyes. Immediately he was enraptured by it. "My fealty is to your cause, and so it is with the flame. Your enemies are my own and the flames will not rest until they have been consumed. This I swore when I promised my sword to your Lord. It will not harm you." She waved the flame away, leaving Eric’s palm unscathed. 

Convinced through silence, the lords agreed. 

As they disbanded, Kirk watched them begin to file out of the tent. Aztrit gathered her cloak and moved to leave, only to be stopped by Kirk’s hand on her elbow. "Valkyrie." He said softly close to her ear. "I know this task will take much from you. You do not have to serve me this way."

Aztrit looked up at him. His pink lips were pressed with concern, and his dark brows were drawn together with worry. "To keep you alive I will do anything, Lord Verdulke."

He caressed her arm as they stood close. "Just Kirk when we are alone Aztrit."

She smiled as he spoke lowly and gave him half of a playful bow. "As you wish."

Kirk brought his face closer to her cheek. Aztrit felt his beard on her pulsing neck. His nose swiped her cheek and grazed her warm skin up to her earlobe. He kissed her ear gently–she shuddered. Kirk spoke closely to her skin. "There is danger in this task. Who is to protect you?"

She closed her eyes to savour his lips as he kissed her face again. He brought her closer to his chest, holding her left hand in his own, and circling her waist with his right. With her beautiful back flush to his chest, he placed more kisses on her neck. 

Aztrit felt his lips–his hands everywhere. She wanted nothing more than for him to touch her just as he had in the garden weeks before. But they had much hidden from each other. "Kirk." She whispered too quietly the first time. She didn't want him to stop. His tongue trailed her pulse along her neck line. "Kirk?" She gasped as he pushed his stiff manhood into her back.

"Lord Verdulke?" they both heard from the tent entrance, breaking them apart.

Kirk sighed deeply as he pulled from Aztrit’s sweet smelling neck. He was going to execute the next person that interrupted them. "Yes, what is it?" He questioned with annoyance as he released her. 

This time, Aztrit was grateful for the distraction. She slipped from his grip as Lord Craig entered.

Lord Craig approached him and bowed. "I wished to formally apologise for my outburst in Grothen some time ago, My Lord. I was only distressed by the news of Lord Carty, he and I were dear friends. I remain your faithful servant."

Towering above Lord Craig, Kirk stilled his stare. He had been surprised at Lord Craig's outburst. He had always been cantankerous, but open insubordination was not commonplace for his council. "I was sorry to hear about Lord Carty.  If we survive this, we will be sure to give him a proper burial. Just be sure that it does not happen again."

“Thank you,” Lord Craig bowed again, “My Lord.” And excused himself.

Kirk accepted his leave and looked around for Aztrit. He sighed as he stood in the empty tent. She had used Lord Craig's interruption for her departure. He grinned at her craftiness. She had been an admirable force during the council meeting. He could understand why she led the Valkyries. Being Odin’s only daughter, there was pressure to succeed.

She had become divine in her own right. She had every reason to be proud of her Godhood. But his own was not so honourable. 

He felt over his scar, his fingers trailing from his brow down to his collar in the mirror’s reflection. The aged black curse poisoned his skin, forever marring its colour and raising the scar tissue beneath his flesh. His mother’s gift was not simple to come by. Hel’s pairing with Surtr would only make her stronger, allowing her control over the immortals she already despised.

But it was him she was coming for.

Kirk calmed as he felt the minds of the guards stationed outside of his tent. If he wanted to, he could reach out and make them his own. Just as he had with Lord Craig. He could make them do and see anything he wished. That power–the coldness it took–was unlike Aztrit’s gifts. And he only had his mother to thank.

✴

Aztrit woke early the next morning, feeling the call of battle in the wind. She exited her tent clothed in a black dress slung over one shoulder with a gold cuff on her left arm. The morning sun peaked from the east, setting its yellow rays across the reeds. The crisp breeze shuffled between the tents, passing the carts pushing replenishments down each aisle.

She examined the men preparing for battle throughout the tent rows, helping each other put on their silver armour and equipping swords and spears. In the distance she could see men on horseback leading the vulnerable to the mountain pass and on their way to Vertan. Slow and steady they carried what was left of their belongings in tattered baskets. 

Aztrit hoped their plan would work. She ventured to the outskirts of the encampment where a medicine tent was erected, its beds not yet full of injured warriors but prepped with spare cloth and water for wrappings. She greeted the few women staying behind to nurse the injured. 

"Lady Aztrit?" She looked to the tent entrance where Eric stood in his full armour, his sword ever present on his steel and fur plated back. "If I may have a word?"

Aztrit agreed and followed him to the back of the tents, feeling his disdain as they stopped. She was unsurprised as he drew a knife from his belt and held it to her neck. 

This moment was critical to him, she could feel the pressure behind his eyes as they strained looking down at her.

Eric's anger only worsened as Aztrit looked into his eyes unafraid. Life debt or not, he would not let her undermine them. "My sons will be joining us on the field today. My sons. If your trap doesn't work precisely as you say–"

Aztrit did not blink under his scrutiny. "It will work as I command it to, Sir Eric. Contrary to what you may believe, I have no ill will towards you or your family. Our rivalry is one sided. Even now, as you so callously threaten my life, I want only for our conversation to be over."

Eric’s eyes hardened and released her with a frustrated grunt. She was right. She had saved his family twice now. But the past was ever present. To see his mother, his father, butchered by a wiccan hag pressed unpleasant memories into his mind. Images he still could not shake.

Aztrit felt his loss in his chest. His wariness had been adopted from a past experience. "I assure you, I am no evil witch. I have nothing to gain from causing you pain. In truth…" she paused. She couldn't believe she was saying this. "I care for your Lord. For him, I would not see you harmed."

Eric eyed her as she told the truth of her feelings for Kirk. He sensed her honesty and returned his knife to his hip. "Ensure it works."

Aztrit nodded. She would.

As Eric left her to herself, she breathed deeply. The Imrad war, Ragnarök, her task; Odin’s request grew more complicated each moment. She held her belly, feeling unravelling happening at the seams of her stomach.

Then horns of war sounded in the air. 

She looked up to the sky, shedding her fears. She made sure no one was around, and shifted to her Valkyrie form. Her gold armband remained, and her black dress turned to a black bodice embroidered in Aesir gold that looped behind her neck and off her shoulders. Her stomach was covered in sacred runic cloth, etched over the hourglass of her body with a black skirt cut at both sides with gold runes. Her thighs were bound with black steel woven cloth to protect her exposed skin.

She stretched her dark wings, feeling free as they fluttered, lifting her off of the ground and into the dawn sky.

Kirk sat on top of Rúnar as more of his men filled in behind him. Lavender coated the breeze, still heavy with the morning dew. The wet dirt trench dug in front of them sat empty as they prepared to meet the Orofarne approaching beyond it.

He looked to the sky briefly, seeing large black wings spread out high above the morning yellow clouds. She circled, signalling that their enemies were almost upon them. 

Kirk raised his axe and gave a war cry as they began pouring from the treeline. He watched them as legions of Ash Dwellers ran forward revealing themselves to the few archers they still had. 

As arrows and spears began to fly Aztrit dove towards the ground, her wings folding in to increase her speed. As she grew nearer, she began lighting the trench aflame leaving blue fire and dark billowing smoke reaching into the sky. 

Kirk heard his war cry echoed as the Ash Dwellers in the trench were consumed by the greedy flames, halting the enemy forces on the other side of the fire. Trapped by the lake and mountain,  they could not move forward.

Kirk watched as Aztrit landed in the trench and walked slowly out of cyan flames. She looked into his eyes, communicating that they could advance when ready.

Aztrit watched as the dark king gave her a considered nod. Perched on his midnight war horse, his black hair peeking from his steel helm and his obsidian axe held high, he gave a third shout and pointed his axe at the flames. 

Aztrit launched back into the sky as the men charged and entered the flames led by their king. She observed from above as the ethereal humming of war and the lavender fields floated through her mind. She waved the humming away and informed her sisters that she was already there before beginning her procurement. 

The battle raged well into the night. As the human warriors drove the Dwellers away from the blue flame’s light and into the dark foothills, they cheered into the stars, chanting as they regrouped.

Aztrit smiled down from the mountainside, the dark purple field split by white blue fire that lit the dark forest they retreated through. In the distance she saw Kirk mount Rúnar once more and ride through his men covered in Ash Dweller blood. He lifted his axe to the sky again and again as their cries surrounded him.

Kirk looked up to the mountainside beneath Callonwood Keep where he could feel her presence. He turned his horse to her, her black wings stretching in front of the pale moon. He pointed his axe at Aztrit, devoting its victory to her.

With a smile, she dismissed the flames, allowing the men to begin to collect their dead and injured. 

Aztrit righted her clothes as she returned to her human form behind the medicine tent. She entered through the bustling maids, hearing pained screams as they tied injured men down. Aztrit pulled herbs from her dress satchel and began chanting above the nearest warrior. She continued healing and pulling the curses from them as more arrived from the front.

As morning arrived many of the warriors slept, taking care to rest before they would move for Vertan the next day.

With the injured warriors either sleeping or healed, Aztrit left the medicine tent in search of Kirk. She headed towards the big blue tent, seeing Rúnar and Fora playfully nudging each other as they grazed. She pet them both, sweeping the ash off of Rúnar as she touched his black coat. “Well done.” She complimented him. He had been a fierce ally for Kirk in the field.

She heard Eric speaking inside as she entered. 

"And the refugees?" Kirk questioned Eric as he removed his armour. 

Eric patted his sleeve where soot had settled. "All is well. They'll be two days ahead of our arrival in a week's time."

Aztrit stifled a laugh. They were positively covered in the soot from the flames. She watched as they dusted off as much as possible, with black ash streaks on their pale arms and faces.

Kirk saw her holding back a giggle. Her small brown fist held to her full blushed lips. Her dark brown hair fell in spectacular coils down her back, and her black dress hugged the curves of her hips that he had seen yesterday. He couldn't have appreciated them in the moment, but now he was able. Her power and beauty accentuated the sensuality of her form and he hoped she was close to allowing him to explore her depths.

Eric bowed to Kirk. "I'll prepare our men for travel, My Lord. We will be ready when you wish."

Kirk waved him away, glad that he had excused himself.

Aztrit sauntered around the council table and sat on top of the hard brown wood in front of where he stood. She watched him as he continued wiping the soot from himself with a wet cloth and lifted the hem of his shirt, showcasing his scars on his muscled abdomen. 

Aztrit crossed her legs for pressure, and leaned on her right palm draping her arm over her legs. "Are you pleased with the outcome of your battle, Lord Verdulke?"

Kirk wanted to take her on the table she sat. He wanted to hear her screams, feel her warm flesh, and bring her to ecstasy. Instead, he kept his cool. "Very pleased, Odinsdottir." He approached the edge of the table and lifted the hem of her dress.

Aztrit felt his fingers smooth up her ankle, travelling slowly past her calf and rest on her thigh. She threw her head back as Kirk began peppering her in ash covered kisses on the plush top of her breasts and up her neck.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair, pulling the curls at the base of her neck to elongate her throat. She gripped his tunic, yanking at the fabric as she curled her toes in satisfaction. She could smell the fire on his skin, and feel his heartbeat in his lips. The overwhelming desire she felt seeping from him made her feel inebriated, forced to float on the waves of his lust.

Kirk pulled back from her briefly, planting a command into the minds of his guards. ‘No one is to disturb me.’ He watched as they closed the flap of the tent and stood in front, blocking the entrance. 

Aztrit didn’t fight him as he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he held her back. She wasn’t used to being so submissive. Away from him, she was a goddess, fighting in gruesome wars, and leading legions of her warrior sisters. But in his arms she wasn’t an immortal, she was simply a woman drowning in desire.

She ran her hands through his hair as she enjoyed the thickness of his lips. She licked his bottom lip and sucked it gently between her teeth. His hard length pressed into her. She threw her head back, giving him access to her neck. He placed kisses on her collarbone and listened to the small noises she made in response. She tightened her hold on his shoulders.

Their lips pressed together again as he carried her to the bed and laid her in it. He looked at her with her hair fanned across the thick quilt, and her eyes hooded. Her dress had risen and only slightly, covering her womanhood. He was eager to have her take everything he could give. But as he thought about how beautiful she was, he slowed his movements to undress himself. 

Whether or not he wanted to take with her was not what was keeping him from devouring her. He didn’t want their relationship to be centred around what they could do for each other physically and rush the blessing that would be her in bed with him. He enjoyed her presence, and her mind. No one had been as willing to challenge him as she had. 

Kirk put his hands on either side of her and hovered over her face. He focused his steel eyes on her and breathed deeply. “I can’t control myself around you, Aztrit.” He gripped the blanket tighter. 

She sat up, holding the sides of his face and took in the confusion rimming his eyes. She understood. She had missed his intoxicating presence while she had been away. Everytime they asked questions about each other, they ended up being intimate. Her soul resonated with everything he told her. His love for his country, his tales of battle, his loyalty to his clan, and the loneliness that came from leading others. Maybe they were both just eager to have someone who seemed to understand them, who seemed to breathe the same air, and walk the same lonely path of leadership as they both did. 

She too had been fighting harder against her emotions in hopes of keeping how disappointed Odin would be in mind. But it was proving to be harder on them both to fight against their attraction. They would have short spurts of intimacy, and then retract, remembering that their relationship was supposed to be a measured one.

 It was a time for honesty. 

She placed a hand on his chest and felt the gentle beating of his heart underneath his skin. “I feel this odd pull towards you.” 

Kirk was surprised to hear her say she felt it too. “It’s like a stone in my chest. Whenever I’m around you the weight becomes heavier.” He touched his forehead to hers and kissed her gently. “I’m still trying to understand how I got a Valkyrie to join me in bed.” 

“I have low standards, and a weakness for men who know how to swing an axe.” He laughed as she joked. “I have admiration for your power. After so many centuries it takes a great deal to impress me in combat.” 

Aztrit felt underneath his tunic, lifting the hem to encourage him to remove it. Kirk obeyed, lifting the tunic above his head. He felt a heated pain in his back.

As he winced, Aztrit sat up. "Are you hurt?"

Not wanting to disturb their moment. Kirk shook his head and bent down to her, kissing her chest and making his way down her body. He ignored the pain and kissed her thighs.

Aztrit moaned as he teased the tender flesh between her legs. His soft kisses heated her vulnerable skin. She ran a hand through his dark hair, tugging it gently as he held her hips still. But as the veins in his shoulder crawled with black, she frantically exited her euphoria. "Gods! Kirk, your back."

Kirk did not lift his head, still enthralled with her most sensitive area.

Aztrit closed her legs and pulled him to stand and show her his injury further. She gasped as she saw the deep cut through the muscles across his spine and up his shoulder. The skin was pale white and porous, as the cut flesh bubbled with dark pus, bruised with blackened veins as the curse spread. How could he have gone so long with it and not be affected?

She tugged his arm towards the bed. "Aztrit." He protested. 

She only glared and summoned the healing lily to help treat his injury. "I do not want to hear it. Our…activities can wait." She continued healing, massaging the leaves into his back, discarding them as they turned black. The texture, the feeling of the gash, and the energy surrounding it was familiar. He could not survive it if he did not have an affinity for it. "This curse…is it the same as the scar on your face?"

Kirk rested his head on the bed and quieted. His facial scar had been a gift for an ill fated child, defenceless and bred in tragedy. "Yes." He said finally. 

Aztrit listened as he reluctantly confirmed. This was not his first time defending himself from the Gods. Only Hel could have done that to him. 

She continued kneeling beside him on the bed, admiring his back as she traced the fine lines in his skin as it healed. His warmth was comforting against her oil slicked palms, turning pink from her ministrations. 

Although he was fully healed, she continued rubbing, sensing his deep peaceful state. Aztrit smiled as Kirk began to snore. She knew he would tell her in his own time. For now, he had done well. The battle was over, and their enemies were defeated. She would let him rest. 

 

To be continued...