Bifrost: Chapter VIII

VIII - Fate’s Herald

Tiere

When Kirk entered the war room he was the only occupant. The walls were jewelled intensely, reflecting the dim light of the few candles that flickered lazily. The table holding the strategic map of Midgard looked to be made of a worn silver alloy, larger than the bed he and Aztrit had slept in together the night before. The brown map was dotted with multi-colored flags, simulating which portions were under Dweller control, and which areas had been retained. 

From the patterns, he could tell the opposition was getting bolder, testing and surpassing their boundaries, like the faction that had ambushed his men on the way to Tiere. The captured lands were beginning to overflow into Karth, coming dangerously close to Grothen. 

Loki had warned him that this would be a pointless endeavour; Ragnarök was fast approaching. His home, and everyone in it, would be facing a doom that they could not stop. 

Even if they survived, no one would face Surtr, and stop him from seeking his revenge for the mistreatment of Muspelheim by the Asgardian Gods. His blaze would spread across the bridge between the two worlds, the Bifrost, and Midgard would meet its untimely end. So, Loki had propositioned him. Join his family in the fight against Asgard, or die fighting against them. But he knew what joining them would mean. Abandon Aztrit, his home, and hers too. He would never be able to justify seeing to the death of everyone he cared for. Certainly not for a demon and her ilk who had never cared for him.  

He rested his palms on the cool metal of the table as the door creaked open in front of him. A tall elf with long white hair pushed his way in. A series of jewels were fractured and redistributed throughout his obscenely large golden crown. It sat squarely on the temples of his slender face, with blind eyes whitened with clouds. His cheeks were sunken, and his upturned nose was crooked. His long white robes fluttered around his feet as he slowly made his way in, followed by General Frovik in good health, and Derkot’s eldest son Lefelgd, who would be his successor. 

Derkot was deteriorating fast. If he was to pass, Vertan would be weakened from mourning. Kirk bowed slightly as the King entered, it was unfortunate this long anticipated war would come to fruition now.  

Derkot had been close to his father. He knew what Kirk was, and who had mothered him. The King had always been deeply intune to the will of the Gods. He was known as a prophet for the Fates, guiding his people safely through the years after they had been forced to rebuild. Karth and Vertan had been compassionate allies for centuries. Vertan shared its wealth in return for the agriculture Karth specialised in. 

Kirk greeted Lefelgd as a brother. The young elf’s blonde hair reached his lower back. His face was round and jovial with greeting. His sapphire armour cast reflections around the well lit room. He stood only inches shorter than Kirk, and his face was artisanally shaped.  

Kirk had been a child when Lefelgd had come to Grothen for his father’s aid at a time when peace had been uncertain between Hyatse and Vertan. Hyatse had driven itself close to irreversible poverty, and had demanded Vertan to pay reparations for the battles fought in the Dwarven homeland during the civil war. But Derkot had been unwilling. It was unprecedented to pay for the repercussions of war that had been instigated by the Dwarves and the Orofarne.

In his insecurity, King Kloi had made the mistake of questioning the willingness the Elves had possessed to stay peaceable, as the nation’s excluding Narothal had agreed to. But all Vertan had requested from Hyatse were goods for their currency. 

Dwarven metals made for the finest and longest lasting weaponry. With Kloi’s refusal, Vertan was facing scrutiny and war from their southern neighbours. All that was left was the strength they could pull from numbers, approaching united with Karth to dissuade Hyatse from attacking. So, Lefelgd had ridden to Castle Grothen, and stayed as the elf and his father, Lord Birau drew solutions to avoid the collapsing of their union. 

While Lefelgd stayed, Kirk–being only a small boy–had been attached to his hip. Lefelgd had intrigued him with his tales of battle and of King Derkot. Lefelgd had been young for his kind, only three hundred and sixty. Just old enough to have experienced fighting at Derkot’s side during the civil war, and take over as the King had begun to get sick. 

They would spend most days in the sunny courtyards of the gardens, weaving in and out between the thick tree roots of the trees as he had taught Kirk his first battle stances. He had been a true brother to him, playing games and teaching him valuable life lessons. 

But one day was pivotal in their fast friendship.

That morning, just outside of his door he could hear Lefelgd trading shouts with Lord Birau, as he slept. Kirk could only make out a few words, but what he heard confused and angered him. 

Lefelgd called his father a reckless liar. 

He tried to keep his young mind from racing as the shouting stopped, and Lord Birau entered alone. His father shut the door and came to sit on the bed where Kirk pretended to sleep, listening to his father sob softly. Never had he heard his father cry. Birau was a proud and silent man with unconditional love for his son and his country. He could tell his father’s tears had been of shame and longing.  

After dinner the next day, when Lefelgd had asked Kirk to go to where they had so often met before for training, he knew what he had to say would be of importance. 

A letter from the King in Vertan had arrived for Lefelgd, a letter he had shared with Kirk on the cold grass of the courtyard while the moon was highest in the sky. Its lunar light resounded off of the mountains to the east, parading the snow covered peaks against the dark night sky.  

Lefelgd opened the parchment slowly, reading every sentence with brevity. Derkot had received intense visions in his sickness, unable to block the connection he possessed to the fates. He had written with fervour and his subject was a bastard born of the union between Lord Birau and the Queen of Helheim. Lefelgd held nothing back, reading exactly what Derkot had claimed happened between the goddess and his father. 

 Kirk had known nothing of his mother. Birau had told him she had died of sickness while Kirk was a baby. Now he had come to learn, she was very much alive. But this was not what had bereaved him. 

After his birth, Hel had been detached and ashamed of what she had created, and had been caught slashing a dagger down the infant’s face and holding it at his throat just minutes after his birth. 

Kirk’s ears rang with pain when Lefelgd had finished. Seeking solace in the quiet of the night that ensued. If he looked closely, he could focus on the lanterns of the marketplace in the distance, glowing softly like stationary fireflies in the night. Wild horses scattered the deep green fields, and townspeople bid each other farewell in the darkened village.  

On a whim, he recalled the abilities he had been discovering slowly. One day while he was sitting alone in the great hall, a voice submersed in his consciousness had suddenly began screaming, clawing its way to the forefront of his mind. 

He battled for his consciousness as it begged to be heard. Through his haze, he saw a lone guard passing through the tables, heading to the entrance to finish his rounds of the castle, when Kirk gave in, doing as the voice asked. 

He focused his silver eyes on the guards back as he walked away. Using his mind to tell him to stop. Kirk was shocked when the guard obeyed. He knew he should have stopped then, but he could not. He continued giving the guard orders. He turned back to face Kirk, holding his dagger to his own neck, gently piercing the soft, vulnerable flesh there. 

Kirk would never forget the intensity of the fear in his brown eyes. But Kirk continued, making him fall to his knees before him. It wasn’t until he saw tears forming in the man’s eyes that he broke himself from the voice. In unison, the guard dropped his knife from his hands, shaking violently from his confusion. 

Kirk stood and touched the cool armour on his shoulder, willing him to forget what had happened. As if it had never occurred, the guard stood, and continued on his rounds, the fear gone from his eyes, but the void had been forever ingrained in Kirk’s thoughts.  

He told Lefelgd right then what he could do, what he had done, and how frightened he was of his gifts. No one else knew of the dark thoughts that slipped into Kirk’s mind often. He felt his desire to control others would eat at his insides if he didn’t use it. It was a voice begging him to manipulate those around him, and everyday it grew harder to ignore.  

Understandably, Lefelgd had been upset with what he heard. But it was much more saddening that a child as young as he would have to grapple with such a form of unquenchable evil, with no one to confide in. 

From that day on, he proved to be a brother to Kirk, time and time again. When the Kings and Lord Birau had come to an agreement, and it was time for Lefelgd to return to Tiere, Kirk had been uncertain that he could control himself. Lefelgd eased his mind from the thoughts that plagued him. But he had assured Kirk, with or without his presence, he was his own man, and his actions would always be more definite than his inner struggles.  

When Lord Birau died, and Kirk became Karth’s leader, he was certain that no one would be more capable than him. He had finally become confident in his own ability to decipher his desires. He had always had Eric for support when he was young, but he owed who he was now to Lefelgd and Birau. 

Lefelgd and Kirk embraced. Lefelgd pulled back, smiling through his words, “I wish our reunion was on better grounds, Lord Verdulke. But it is damn good to see you. Too much time has passed since we last saw each other.” 

“Aye,” Kirk nodded, “and you grow shorter with each visit.” 

Lefelgd’s laughter lightened the candle lit room, “While that may be true, I’m still much more attractive than you. You do remember who those ladies from Lekepsay preferred, don’t you?” 

Kirk rolled his eyes at his brother, “Does Angeana know you still reminisce of your pre-wed affairs?” 

Lefelgd lost the humour from his face quickly at the mention of his wife, and the mother of his four children. She had been so sweet and soft before he married her, but she had dug her hands into him when they married, forcing him to become a better man. He was thankful for her everyday. 

He had heard Kirk had had a muse of his own at the gathering the night before. He made a note to ask him later. He turned to his father and helped him move his jewelled cane towards Kirk. “Kirk, you know of my father King Derkot of Vertan.”  

Derkot placed a scarred and wrinkled hand up to silence his son, and approached Kirk slowly opening his arms to embrace him as Lefelgd had. “Lord Birau’s son is my son. You look much like him, but certainly larger.” He placed a hand on Kirk’s face and patted his warm skin lightly. Without looking away from Kirk’s eyes, he spoke to Frovik. “General, Please leave us. Lefelgd can handle this briefing, I’m sure.” 

Kirk stared into Derkot’s white eyes, searching for the meaning he was sure would be arriving soon. “It is good to finally see you, not just your words on parchment.” The King nodded his agreement. 

Lefelgd grabbed a chair from the corner and placed it behind his father, letting him collapse into it breathing heavily. Everyday was harsher on his body, and what he could do physically was less every moment. “Before we talk about this war on Midgard, I must tell you that I have seen your fate change numerous times in the last month. Could you explain to me why that may be? I have tried my hardest, but I cannot see the cause.” 

Kirk looked from Derkot to Lefelgd, uncertain of where to begin. “Aye, I met someone… special.” He chuckled softly seeing Lefelgd grow visibly excited. 

“Please Kirk. There is nothing you can hide if I am to aid you. Although it does worry me that my son is so stimulated from your sexual escapades, we are all old men who can handle your truth.” Derkot coughed through his laughter. Lefelgd patted his back gently. 

“She’s like you, isn’t she?” Lefelgd questioned, trying to hide his joy. 

Kirk felt his face warm at the thought of her. “Aye. But she is much closer to Asgard than I am. She’s the daughter of Odin, and his lead Valkyrie.” He paused, but Derkot quickly urged him to continue while Lefelgd was slack jawed. “We met almost a month ago, when she told me that I had won Odin’s favour, and that she was going to help me defeat the Ash Dwellers. I was wary but I accepted. Something strange happened when we met. I felt this distinct force in my chest that needed her, every second she wasn’t near I could only think of and crave her. It didn’t go away until we–” 

“Fucked?” Lefelgd said for him loudly in the quiet room. 

Kirk gave him a look of disapproval before continuing. “Until we joined for the first time. The best I can describe it is a clicking sensation. Since that moment, I often feel that I can sense her state of mind.” He raised a hand to his chest subconsciously, feeling the swell of it where he could sense her hands. “But soon I found out that she was sent here to take my soul for Odin, instead of aiding me. Her adopted brother Loki told me, who happens to be my biological grandfather, and he wants me to side with my mother when Ragnarök begins and kill Odin. I forgave her because I myself had lied to her, and… I care for her.” He smiled as he heard himself say it for the first time. It was true. He knew it because no one else had made him feel so complete and happy. Even still she could make him angry enough to want to throttle her, through his affections. But never could he bring himself to harm her. 

Kirk thought deeply about her as the two elves stayed silent, examining him working through his stupor. When he was prepared, he spoke again. “At this moment, I’m clouded with chaos. I know undoubtedly that my loyalty will lie with Asgard because of Aztrit. But how could I defend a God that wanted to take my life dishonourably? And what do I focus my efforts on? Ragnarök, or Midgard? I owe Karth my fealty until my last breath, but if I shirk what’s to come from the war of the Gods, I could lose her. But if Midgard will be destroyed during Ragnarök like Loki has said, what would be the use of preparing for a war on Midgard that might not get a chance to come to fruition?”  

He looked at them staring back at him. He realised the amount of information that he had just passed on was substantial, but how could they have no remarks? “I would appreciate your thoughts.” He eyed Lefelgd who was uncharacteristically quiet. 

Lefelgd settled his hands on his father's feeble shoulders. He was at a loss. The war on Midgard, he could give advice for. He was well versed in fighting mortal beings. But a war between worlds, he had no plan for. The love Kirk felt for Aztrit he could attest to. The clicking between their souls was unfamiliar to him. But he was fortunate enough to possess unabashed love like this. He would fell himself on his blades for Angeana and his children. He was sure that if Aztrit had gone through with what her father had wished, Kirk still would have cared for her unconditionally.  

 “My visions are becoming more cohesive with your explanation. But your fate lines are incomplete.” Derkot said with his eyelids shut. “Forgive me, I know you are longing for advice. But I do not believe I can comment on a fate that’s only half your own.” 

“Half my own? I no longer have my own fate lines?” Kirk was unsure of what to make of it. How close was he to his death if this was so?

Derkot’s eyes opened slowly. His mind was beginning to fade. He was focusing too harshly on his gift. The room was beginning to resemble static, he could only see the outline of Kirk’s cut form and three sets of blind eyes travelling slowly from the darkest corner by the door.

They were unhappy. 

“I cannot explain to you, Kirk, how deeply saddened I am to not be able to speak clearly. Give me time to gather my thoughts, and return to me later.” Derkot began to stand from the chair, almost falling forward before Kirk extended an arm and helped him keep his balance. Derkot looked into his face again. “I miss your father every moment. It pains me that I could not personally give you guidance when Birau died. You have done well, he would tell you the same.” 

Lefelgd called to General Frovik, hoping to have Derkot escorted back to his chambers to rest. “No, Lefelgd.” Derkot made his way to the door, allowing his son to open it for him. “I would like to walk by myself. I have much to think about. Kirk, bring her with you when you come.” The whispers grew louder in his ears in protest. He would have to speak to them privately. 

Lefelgd closed the door after his father had left, and looked to his brother brooding over the canvas map. “I think you’re overthinking it.” 

“How so?” Kirk said, lifting his gaze up to Lefelgd, and sitting in the now vacant chair. He was absolutely open to any advice at all. Even awful advice. 

“If you go about it carefully, you can do both. You say Ragnarök is fast approaching–which I’m inclined to believe. But so is the war against the Orofarne. There’s your dilemma, both could happen today. But you’re over valuing how much you are needed in one or the other. Of course I want to be selfish and say that we need you the most here, but it’s simply untrue.” Lefelgd came over to where he was sitting, and bent over the map there, pointing to Grothen. “You feel the most attachment here, but you have governed extraordinary men, who are capable without you.” 

“Are you suggesting I pass my homeland off to someone else? Eric couldn’t make it to this meeting because he was too drunk last night. Aye, he’s capable in battle, and if I had to, I know he could lead them, but that’s not his role to play.” 

“But it is, Kirk. He’s your second. Eric makes mistakes, but I have to agree with Loki, this doesn’t sound like the war you need to be fighting. If you can manage to turn Kloi back to us, that’s all we would need from you. The fighting would succeed without you, assuredly. They’re strong, but they’re outnumbered.” 

“You’re telling me to leave the protection of Karth, somewhere I’ve lived my whole life up to someone else to protect a land I’ve never been to and had no stake in until a month ago? Is that what you’re saying?” Kirk was regretting asking for his advice. 

“You’re not listening because you’ve already made up your mind. You’re going about this the hardest way. If we all die because of this attack on Asgard, we need someone who can protect us from there.” Lefelgd was struggling to make him understand. The best way to approach this would be to cover all their weaknesses. “You might not like what I’m about to say next either. You should consider using your powers. Especially if Kloi doesn’t agree.” 

Kirk stood quickly and made way to leave. “Now I know you’re not in your right mind. How could you ask that of me? After everything I’ve confided in you? You know how my abilities affect me.” 

“All I’m asking is that you consider it. Nothing I’ve said is definite. You should know all of your options, especially if she’s as precious to you as you say she is. If I had to choose between my pride, and Angeana, she would win every time. You want me to treat you as if you’re purely human, but you are not. You’ll have to struggle in ways that others will never be able to imagine. It’s your burden to bear. Only you can decide if survival will be worth twisting your values.” 

✴

Aztrit woke happily, enjoying the comfort of the warm blankets before she stood. She was not surprised Kirk had risen with the sun, and began his day by slipping out quietly. It was the early afternoon now, and she was thankful she had gotten quality rest. With the weight on her shoulders, even an hour of peaceful sleep was a blessing. 

She walked over to the creamy porcelain basin filled with rose water milk in the corner, and immersed her hands into the still liquid unhurriedly, letting the floating petals gently dip and sway against the soft skin of her open hands. She rinsed her face and brought small portions of the liquid aroma to the straight strands of her dark hair, lavishing them repeatedly until they began to coil. She took the thick fabric laying next to the basin and wrapped her dripping ends in it, twisting to purge the droplets. 

She thought about what she should do in Kirk's absence, and if he would return soon. If not, she could pay a quick visit home to check affairs. She was growing impatient waiting on Craitol to keep her updated as Dahlia healed. The moments were too crucial everyday not to be informed for even a second. 

Aztrit had talked herself into it, knowing that Kirk would understand her need to go back.  

She formed her fingers to summon her armour, when the door opened and Kirk forced himself through, looking further from happy than she felt. She chose a simple button down wool dress instead. “Are you okay? Did the meeting not go well?” 

 Kirk made his way over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and brought his lips to her clean cheek. He let her go and began changing his tunic. She watched his back ripple with effort. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you look like a bird shat on your horse.” Not hearing him laugh at her joke, she continued, coming closer and placing her hands on his bare back as he sighed from frustration. “Truly, what’s wrong?” He was clearly upset. 

She watched him as he sat the tunic he was going to put on back on the bed, and faced her instead. His eyebrows were loosely furrowed, bending towards his steele eyes. She could feel he was clouded and insecure. It worried her that he could be having second thoughts about her being near him after they had bared their truths. He would be justified. “Kirk?” 

“Do you think I could be like her?” Kirk’s lips were pressed together tightly, as if he had tried to keep his thoughts to himself. His eyes became sadder, holding his consciousness. “Do you think that I could…become her?” 

Aztrit shook her head initially, not fully understanding what he was asking her. “No. I’ve never met Hel, but from what I’ve heard, definitely not. The way she controls people–”

“I control people.” He spat in anger with himself. 

“Kirk, not like Hel does. You don’t drain their souls for your personal gain and force them to serve you for eternity. It’s not like you even use your powers much at all.” 

 He was unconvinced. “If I chose to, I could do exactly that. Murder them and force them to declare fealty to me. I could use their fear to my advantage, and feed on their minds until I was satisfied.” 

She was noticing a pattern.

He was associating immortality with likeness to severe beasts. Just as he had done to her, because the only one he had ever met was his own mother. “I’m going to say something to you that you may not understand about yourself, and about other immortals. We all have gifts that could plague and destroy us from the inside out. Those abilities are not who we are, they’re just what we can do. I know how hard it is to not belong to either identity. We’re not human enough, or we’re not immortal enough. It is easy to tell ourselves we don’t belong, that we’re not valuable, that our worlds would be better without us. But, it’s just not true. You’re strong enough now to know what you want, and control the parts of you that want devastation. You’re letting your abilities control you. Do you want to be your mother?” 

“No.” 

“Then you will not be. It’s not up to anyone but you.” 

Kirk allowed her words to linger within his mind. “Lefelgd suggested I use them to sway Kloi to keep in agreement with the treaty.” 

Aztrit touched his arms as he looked down on her, feeling his body with her fingertips roaming his exposed flesh. “As a leader, I agree. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” 

Kirk flexed his chest subtly underneath her velvety touch. He was quickly forgetting his worries, and replacing his thoughts with images of her on her knees in front of him. “And as my woman? What would you advise?” 

Aztrit smiled as he lowered his voice, playing his baritone to her weakness. “As your woman, I would tell you to wait to see what feels right. But, did we ever agree that I was?” 

“We have an unspoken promise that you will share me with no one. And I, you. Don’t you agree?” He took her wet strands in his hand at the base of her neck, and spoke against her waiting lips while keeping his eyes fixed on her honey pools. 

She took comfort in his breath cascading down her neck. She could tell he was hungry for her. “I think I would recall something as serious as that. But I don’t.” 

“How will we get more serious if I have to keep reminding you of the simple things? My name, who you belong to?” He turned her head and kissed the corner of her lips faintly. 

She turned her head to receive him on her lips instead, enjoying the warmth of his mouth. They stayed touching and kissing softly until he pushed her gently towards the bed, allowing her to fall back on it. He laid his body on top of hers, letting her sweep her hands through his midnight hair. His kisses were desperate, leaving heat on every place they touched. He lifted her dress and felt her mound, stroking her to coax the liquor from her brown body. 

Kirk was attempting not to rush, but he was in greater need of the comfort she kept between her thighs than he had ever been. Her words had touched him. He knew she cared for him, but to hear her think so highly of him, was riveting. 

Kirk thanked the Gods for Odin’s selfishness, without him, he would not have the chance to lie with his daughter. 

When she was sufficiently dripping, he lowered his trousers just past the dimples in his hips, releasing his strained member and coated himself with her essence before directing himself into her centre. 

She put her hands over his thick knuckles on her thighs, letting him knead her insides pleasurably. He began slowly, but quickly sped up, giving her contradicting strokes. Her body always reacted fiercely to him, her sensitivity hit its peak every time he entered. She felt as if he was made to nestle into her. He lifted one hand to her concealed cleavage, unbuttoning the top of her dress to free her chest. 

“Oh Gods, I’m sorry!” 

Aztrit swiftly buttoned her top back up and lowered her dress as Kirk jumped from her body and recovered himself, looking to her awestruck friend covering her eyes. “Dahlia?! Gods! Why are you here?!”  She looked at Kirk's red face as he searched for his tunic. She had been too busy to hear the gusts and see the light of her entrance. 

Dahlia uncovered her green eyes and appraised Kirk’s body. She turned her view to Aztrit and mouthed ‘Wow’ in appreciation. He was quite the hero indeed. But he smelled…odd. “You told me to come.” 

Aztrit shook her head as she got up and handed her embarrassed lover his shirt. “No. I told Craitol to come and I told her to meet me tonight. You’re supposed to be resting. ” 

“Well yes, but I feel much better already.” She looked back to Kirk who was now fully dressed, but still wore his blush. “And I’m so happy I came.” Dahlia smiled at him, but he did not reciprocate. 

He raised a brow at her. He could not take another spirited warrior woman. He turned to Aztrit. “I’m going to go check on Eric. Hopefully his hangover will have killed him by now.” he kissed her cheek again and began to walk out. “Dahlia, nice to have met you.” 

She held her hand for him to shake, “Likewise. Kirk.” In confusion, he looked back to Aztrit. Had she told her about him? “I heard her moan it.” Dahlia clarified with a smug chuckle.

He briskly let go of her palm. “Gods.” He scoffed and left the two to speak. 

“He is much more attractive than you let on.” Dahlia approached her sister and hugged her angry form. “Don’t be mad at me.” 

Aztrit rolled her eyes as she was overcome with Dahlia’s fruity scent. “I’m not. I’m just embarrassed. I know Kirk is too. But, I am glad you’re feeling alright. I feel so guilty for what happened to you.” 

Dahlia let her go and took a seat on the bed. “You really shouldn’t. I know you would protect us every second if you could. I see you two made up? You seem much happier. I’m sorry, but you smell of him. It's a little like rotting flesh.” She squinted her eyes for emphasis, and scrounged her nose. “He doesn’t smell human. Why are you down here?” 

“Okay, slow down, what do you want me to acknowledge first? Him, or why I'm here?” Aztrit sat next to her and righted her dress. What lie could she tell to turn her suspicions? 

“Are they mutually exclusive?” Dahlia said through her held breath. The smell was overwhelming. 

“I’m doing something for Odin. That’s all I can say. If it’s that bad, you can go home and we can just talk telepathically."

“No, no, no. You just want to get rid of me so you can keep fucking Sir Large Cock over there.” She said as she pointed to the closed door, howling with laughter. 

“That’s really not funny Dahlia.” Aztrit responded with shame. “What’s going on at home?” 

Dahlia wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to stifle her laughter. “My dearest sister, lighten up. Not much has happened since yesterday. Fenrir hasn’t been found. Probably because I wounded him so drastically during our battle. You already know our sisters have healed. Thanks to you. But Hel is becoming more involved as you said. She and Surtr…it isn’t good. Thor came back from seeing her, and he’s still taking today to heal from his injuries. He asked for you, but your father wouldn’t allow it. Tihala hasn’t left his side.” 

Aztrit sat up straighter. “Thor’s injured? Mjolnir hasn’t healed him?” 

Dahlia lifted her shoulders. “It’s taking him long. I thought you would appreciate it coming from me instead of Craitol. You know how indirect she can be–Gods, you smell like death.” She said suddenly. “I’m sorry. I love you, but Freyja–I can’t stand it.” 

“What about my armoury, Dahlia?” She got up and moved towards the door, changing into her Valkyrie form as she had intended earlier. She took parchment from the table closest to the door and scribbled an explanation for her absence. 

“Everything, even the lock was intact. But all the weapons have the same inscription and sigil you told me about. This is old magic, Aztrit.”

Aztrit knew. The veil between worlds was growing thinner with each day that passed. It would not take much for a calculated strike to end them all.

“You can’t go see him. Odin is already put out that you came to heal us. He’s been unusual lately, have you noticed?” Odin had made frantic decisions, and sealed himself from most, only emerging to give orders, much unlike him. 

“I have. Even when we spoke last night, I felt he was seeing me as a threat.” Was she a threat to him now? After laying with Hel’s son? 

“You two share a look of love. What of this Lord Verdulke you’re here for? What’s he like?” Dahlia said casually hoping to catch her off guard. Thor had a loose tongue on tree mead.

Aztrit looked at her in shock. “How do you know him?” Dahlia was so investigative, it irritated her. She could never stop asking questions. 

Dahlia lifted her brows in challenge. “Your brother told me. Odin sent you here for him. Is Kirk close to him? Is that why you tried to keep it a secret?” 

For as long as Aztrit had lived she had kept many things between her and Odin. She was flabbergasted that the most important secret was becoming the quickest to spread. At Least Dahlia was unaware that her target was the same person as her lover.

Just as she had fixed her mouth to lie, her sister stopped her. “He’s Lord Verdulke, isn’t he? That’s why you’ve been so conflicted. If he was nobody, you would have told me.” Dahlia shook her head in disappointment. Her friend had gone to a place that would be hard to follow. “What were you thinking? Do you know what your father will do when he finds out?” 

Aztrit could only offer her silence. She knew. And now that Dahlia knew, Odin would punish her too.  

If she wasted time regretting the decisions she’s made, she wouldn’t be able to work towards righting her wrongs. She looked to her worried sister, and gave her the deepest assurance she could. “Then don’t tell him.” And vanished. 

Aztrit flashed to Thor’s abhorrently gold manor on the white rock hills and pushed through the heavy doors. Her brother loved the colour more than he could express verbally, so he had chosen to decorate accordingly. It reminded him of his personal glory every moment he wasn’t speaking of it.

She removed her helmet and stifled her wings as she entered, smoothing the curls along her head. It was three stories of pure gold. Everytime she came, she tried to gift him normal looking fixtures, which he kept in a small gold utility closet. She had since stopped gifting anything at all. She hurried up the winding staircase and into his bedroom. 

The gold curtains by the open window gracefully flowed from the wind blowing outside of his plant covered balcony. Next to his canopy bed was Tihala praying, in a green dress that glamourized her fiery red hair. Thor laid in the middle of the obnoxiously gold sheets. She came from behind her niece and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump.  

Tihala bowed from her position. “I’m sorry General, you caught me without my wits about me.” 

“You don’t have to apologise darling.” She touched her head and brought her to stand. “And no bowing. I’m not your Commander in times like these.” Aztrit accepted the hug Tihala meekly gave in return. “You’re wearing the dress I got you. I knew it would look beautiful on you. But you look tired. When is the last time you ate?” 

 Tihala blushed at her aunt’s comment. Aztrit was always sending her pretty things when they found time to converse as family. “It has been sometime.” But the respect she had for her family always kept her from connecting. True, she was Odin’s only biological grandchild, but never had he showered her with the attention he gave his children.

“Then go. I’ll take care of him until you return.” Aztrit said as she sat on the edge of Thor’s satin sheets. She placed a hand on him and calmed herself as Tihala left.  

Thor opened his brown eyes in response. In her presence they shifted hazel. She found holding her breath to be unnecessary now. She let it go and spoke to him as she healed him with no difficulty. “You’ve been cursed. I can feel the blood thickening in your veins.” 

He nodded slowly in agreement. “Aye. I know. Even with Mjolnir, I was struggling. She touched me. That was all it took. Have I grown this weak sister? A damned shadow can take my life?” 

There his angry burr was. She continued healing him as gold lines covered the area she touched on his hand. “Father didn’t want me here?”

“He told us you were not to be bothered.” Thor moved his head back and forth against the pillow, lifting his nose in the air. “I must be close to death. I can still smell her.” 

“Who?” 

“Hel. Rotting corpses–Loki’s unholy breed. I went to see if she would side with us, and she ambushed me. We have our answer sister. I’m wondering how Loki will side.”  

Aztrit already knew the answer. Outing her to Kirk was an obvious move. But perhaps like always, Loki had his reasons. She hoped they were good.“Don’t worry about that now. Rest.” She finished healing him and returned his hand. 

“Tell me your progress with Lord Verdulke, sister. With everyday, we might need him sooner than intended. Have you accounted for this?” Thor breathed in relief as his senses came back to him. 

Was it possible Thor did not know of their father’s deceit as well? “I have.” 

“And?” Thor eyed her. “Has something gone wrong?” 

Aztrit hesitated. It would be foolish to say anything to Odin’s most loyal soldier. Even if her brother loved her, honour and fealty meant much more. “No.” 

“It’s important to Father. You’re not reconsidering are you?” 

“Of course not. It will be done. I am nothing if I cannot fell him.” She lied expertly. Her brother would not understand. He loved her, but his loyalty to Asgard, and to their father was unwavering. She had plans of her own.

Thor smiled and sat up in bed. He was feeling better already. “Good. Dearest sister. You have remarkable gifts. I thought you would like to hear, the Fates have not been seen for sometime. I’m sure you will be unbothered by them to complete your task.” 

Aztrit looked at his aggressive features. His eyebrows were bushy and wild like flames endangering his hard brown eyes. His long hair was pulled together behind his neck and his thick beard clung to his chin tightly. The colour slowly returned to his freckled cheeks. His form was large. More vast than Kirk’s because Thor was pure. He would never say it aloud to her out of respect, but she knew he was proud of his lineage.  

“Do you remember when I was a child, and you used to parade me through the Honour Hall, telling me the stories of all of the heroes, and our family?” She smiled at the memory. She was young, and no one wanted to befriend her. Her brother would spend time with her often making sure she was cared for and knew of their history. He had taught her to take honour in their name, and glory in battle. 

“I recall prying you from stray dogs. They wafted to you like honey flies because you kept feeding them your lunch.” his sister had a compassionate streak to her. It was not hard to fall in love with her when his father had brought her here after Baldur and her mother had died. She was curious as a babe, and her powers had made her hard to care for. “You lit my beard on fire when I commanded you to stop.” She lit everything she didn’t like on fire. 

She laughed, reminiscing about their interactions. He had threatened to strike her with Mjolnir, his hammer, for setting him aflame, making her cry. It was one of the few moments she saw Thor control his anger and replace it with empathy instead. He had picked her up to comfort her, and even petted a few of the strays. Everyday they spent together after, they brought extra bread for her waiting friends.  

Thor squeezed her hand as they reminisced. He had lost his only blood brother, but had gained a treasure unlike anything else in the nine realms; the love of a sister.

She noticed he was shirtless suddenly and let out a gasp of horror. “Wait. Are you naked?” He was covered by sheets, but her brother had an awful habit of speaking to others, in the nude. 

“Aye, what of it? I was dying. Fabric be damned.” 

She stood, putting distance between them. “I touched you.” she said in disgust. Why hadn’t Tihala warned her? “You would fight naked if you could.” 

Thor shook his head as his brows furrowed. “That would be impractical. Who would fight naked? Surely no one who’s living.” 

Aztrit sighed at her brother’s questions, he was forever unchanging. “It was a joke, brother.” 

“Why do you joke? It’s confusing. Your enemies will use it against you.” Thor flashed clothes on his body and got up. “Better?” He walked out of his room and put his hands up in victory. “Where is my beautiful wife?!” He bellowed at the top of the stairs, hoping to find Sif. 

“I didn’t see her when I came in.” Aztrit said, moving past Thor’s long fur cape and down the stairs. “If you’re feeling better, I have to get back before father knows I’m here.” 

“Aztrit. Wait.” He hurried down the stairs after her. He reached her and walked beside her. “Ragnarök is fast approaching. Loki may not be with us, this you know?”

She stopped at the bottom. “Of course I do. But I will not fight him. Neither will you.” 

Thor paused and examined her face. “And if he attacks us first? Would you not protect yourself? He’s not our blood.” He couldn’t understand the way she felt for Loki. He was nothing more than a malevolent spirit. “If it was Father or him, who would you choose?” 

She felt her anger rising. Thor was always instigating, insisting he was always just. “Never could I place the value of their lives. You should be ashamed that you can. He may be so, but he loves us.” 

“So does Odin. You would pick a Jotun over your own father?” He spat at her, his voice rising in bass with every statement. “Traitorous. He is nothing compared to Odin.” 

“Then let Odin determine if he lives. I will not place blame. He is family. I don’t care what you say otherwise.” Aztrit fought.

Thor went on, “And his children?” 

She stopped her debate. She was growing tired of the war rhetoric. “Everything will fall as it may. I have nothing else to say. Make sure my niece takes care of herself, and tell Sif I said goodbye.” She said with calm anger, flashing away.

Kirk was waiting for Aztrit when she returned. He was taken aback at her change in form. There she stood with her wings stretched to their apex, and her armour had deepened in shade, causing her golden plates to stand brighter. The horns on her helmet were more profound, warning attackers of her power. 

Still, she looked beautiful to him. Because underneath her armour, her eyes still warmed when she saw him. But it was her turn to be upset. “Hel attacked Thor. She’s against us.” 

Kirk was not surprised. To him, it had been obvious. But he knew that Aztrit was placed much more delicately in this timeline than he was. “So Loki will be too. How is Thor?” 

She took her helmet off and was about to change her form when he stood and halted her. “Wait. I don’t think I’ve ever touched you this way.” She looked to him in confusion as he reached a hand out and stroked the black feathers on her wing. 

“If you’re not really flying from place to place, why extend them?” He felt how soft each individual was, like silk tightly wrapped around his fingers. They were darker than the pair he had seen on her before. “You’ve changed.” 

She breathed him in, allowing his scent to calm her. “This happened to me after I healed Dahlia. I told you. They help me keep my balance in the gusts.” 

Even with her height now, she had to look up at him. She studied the scarred left side of his face, finding relief in his eyes, even though they were not focused on her. 

She touched the mark softly, bringing his attention to her. She trailed her fingers down his lips and behind his head, cradling the soft hairs on the back of his neck. She felt a shiver go down his spine, causing him to exhale lightly as he closed his eyes. 

Aztrit tilted her head up to take his neck into her soft lips, leading with her warm textured tongue. She licked upwards on the crux of his neck and shoulder, tasting the salt from his sweet sweat. He gripped her hips and brought them closer to his body. The pain from his grip made her yelp lightly, making her more eager to take him again. 

Her noises were destructive, the softness of her sighs and the pauses of her pain were making his body flush from temperature. He pressed his lips to her earlobe and tugged at the fabric on her rear. “Remove this.” His deep voice shook lightly in her ear, letting her know how fiercely he was restraining himself. 

She dispersed her clothes and her wings as he tongued the outer rim of her ear. He took the cheeks of her rear into his palms, separating them with his steele grip. Her soft flesh came apart in his hands. 

He extended his neck, letting her continue to trace it with her pillow lips. “Take my cock out, and put me between your lips.” He said from the depths of his throat, overcoming the haze of heat between them.  

She slowly let go of his upper body and ran her hands down his body as she sank to her knees, pulling his pants down with her. She entwined her fingers into his pubic trail, her mouth watered as his cock bobbed freely. 

She wet her lips and licked the underneath before slowly sliding his sensitive head past her lips and into the warmth to be celebrated between the ridges of the roof of her mouth and the bed of her tongue. She held onto his thighs as she worked her mouth around him slowly, only accepting the head, and flicking her tongue underneath his shaft without removing him. She tasted droplets of his premature come and used them to lubricate his tip. 

He took fistfuls of her hair as she looked up at him innocently, pretending that she wasn’t worshipping his cock masterfully. He groaned as she slipped him in further, tightening her lips as she took him and pulled back, adding tempting pressure. The further she took him the more she worked her throat around him, humming to send gentle vibrations of pleasure through his stiff rod and keep herself from gagging while taking his length. 

He grew impatient as she worked up to taking him in his entirety. He removed his shirt from over his head as she sucked, and took her hair again, this time he began to lead his hips into her mouth, refusing to give her his patience. 

She didn’t stop him as he began fucking her face. She wanted him to, giving him deliberately slow service to urge him to take control. Her eyes teared as he fucked her roughly. Her lack of breath was an aphrodisiac to her body, she could feel herself dripping past her lips. 

She closed her eyes tightly to focus on her breathing, only to have him yank her head back. “Keep your eyes on mine.” He demanded through his sighs. But as her eyes connected with his, showing him how watery and desperate they were, he felt himself tightening, about to release into her waiting mouth, but he was still eager yet to fill her. 

He removed himself from her mouth with a resounding pop. She touched the corners of her mouth, catching her saliva from falling onto her body. She watched him grab a padded chair from the corner and bring it to where she sat on her knees on the floor. 

He took her hand, making her stand as he sat in the chair and pulled her body between his legs and turned her around. He held open her cheeks with one hand this time, splitting her open and tested her wetness with his finger. He gripped her hip and brought her to sit on his lap as he entered her. 

She gasped from his thickness, as he moved her up and down his shaft, controlling her with a hand on her hip and chest, keeping her back close to him. She took initiative as she adjusted, placing her hands on his thighs, and working her hips along his length. She said his name as she leaned her upper body to rest on him, putting her neck dangerously close to his lips. 

Kirk ran his rough hands down her swaying breasts, down her stomach, and split her legs to give himself more of her uninterrupted. He pumped upwards slowly as she rode him, taking notice of her rhythm, slow and smooth. Their steamy breath grew heavier as they took relief in each other's touches. 

He rubbed two fingers down her slit as he fucked her, parting them around his shaft and repeating, stimulating her nerves making the warmth of her core coat him more with her come. 

Aztrit stood and turned to face him, lifting her legs to get close to hips. She lowered herself onto him again, dripping down his shaft. She opened her legs as far as she could, letting him move her back and forth on him, sliding until almost unsheathing himself, her lips delicately taunting the underside of his head. She arched her back to aid him, jutting her nipples forward to his wet mouth. He opened his lips as it brushed against them begging him to take it in. 

She moaned as he suckled her, intensifying her oncoming release. She could feel herself throbbing early on, fighting to prolong the bliss they discovered together. He lapped at the hard bud, hoping to coax liquid from them.  

Kirk ran his hands down her legs, allowing her to take her time to ride, knowing she was about to deliver pleasure to him, he had never experienced outside of her legs. He released her nipple as she massaged him gently, and raised his eyes to hers. She brought her forehead to his, their noses bumping lightly as they chanted their satisfaction. He pressed her back close to him, connecting their chests, not stopping her graceful ride. 

As their lips touched, she was overwhelmed with affection for him, tasting the sweetness of his breath. Her heart stopped as she began coming to him, breathing raspily against him, as her centre clung to him and released in spasms, the waves hitting her forcefully with no give. She spoke through her cries, “I love you Kirk. Oh Gods, I love you.”  

While the tears rolled down her cheeks, his body followed her to euphoria, tightening and releasing himself inside of her as she begged him. Never had he heard someone say they loved him this way. He knew she had said it in the heat of the moment, but he believed her. Otherwise, she would not accept him as what he was. 

He kissed her face to replace the tears and watched her enjoy what he could do to her. She stifled his groans as she kissed him again, feeling weak from the intensity she had experienced. 

When she released his lips, he was staring up at her. His brows pulled together in thought. “What’s wrong?” She asked quietly, unable to speak louder. 

“Did you mean it?” He asked deeply, with hope to his words. 

She knew what she said, she hadn’t meant to, but she did feel just as she spoke. “Yes. Is that okay?” 

Kirk took her hair into his hands as he smiled up at her. “No. I don’t care for you at all.” 

Aztrit laughed in hushed tones and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging his sweaty body. 

“Say it again.” He whispered to her, needing to hear it cross her lips once more. 

“I love you Kirk.” She confirmed again as he hugged her body close to him.