by Unknown
“Yes, thank you,” Teharon shook Kohana's hand. “We appreciate your sharing the information.”
“Of course,” he nodded and then gave us a smile. “Now I think I'll go back out there and drink more of that wonderful beverage.” He walked from the hall, leaving us to share nervous glances over his information.
“What the fuck?!” Finn shouted and we all jerked our attention over to where he was standing, beside one of the Valkyries. He was gesturing wildly at her cloak. It was Herja if I'm not mistaken. Her name means devastate, so I'm sure you can understand my immediate concern for Finn's safety. Especially since he seemed to be completely unconcerned as he continued shouting, “Are those swan feathers?”
“Of course,” the blonde haired, blue-eyed Valkyrie looked Finn up and down like she wasn't sure what was wrong with him but she was certain it must be something terrible.
“We always wear them into battle,” a dark haired Valkyrie slid between them. Her smile was kind and it had an immediate affect on Finn. He stopped gesticulating and just gaped at her. “Perhaps you've heard the term swan song?”
“Um, yes,” Finn stammered as Herja rolled her eyes and stomped away.
“That comes from the story of my sister Kara,” she waved a hand to a Valkyrie behind her. Another woman with dark hair, Kara had gray eyes that settled on Finn intensely. He swallowed hard and quickly set his gaze back on the Valkyrie before him. She smiled and continued. “Kara used to sing to her lover in battle. She'd hover over him and watch him fight, it was one of her favorite things. But then-”
“Then that idiot forgot I was there and lifted his sword right up into my belly,” Kara growled, still staring Finn down like it was his fault. “I was singing! How could he forget I was there?” Then she stomped off after Herja.
“I don't see how anyone could forget that woman's presence,” Finn blinked in confusion.
“Anyway,” the Valkyrie continued. “Everyone thought Kara had died, so they began to call someone's final performance their swan song.”
“I'm Finn,” Finn held out his hand to the Valkyrie in a daze of infatuation.
“Eir,” she grinned at him.
“Speaking of cloaks,” Loki interrupted, strolling into the hall with a huge grin. “What do you all think of mine?”
“Where have you been?” Fenrir growled. “You were supposed to be here hours ago to help us rescue Vervain.”
“It looks like you managed just fine,” he shrugged.
“She escaped on her own,” Fenrir growled at his father.
“Well I'm not surprised at all,” Loki beamed at me. “Our girl's resourceful.”
“Where were you?” Fenrir shouted.
“I was acquiring my new cloak,” Loki spread it out so it caught the light. It was a truly beautiful cloak, golden feathers covering the whole thing and lined with black velvet.
“Are those falcon feathers?” Horus growled with such menace we all turned to stare at him in shock. Even Fenrir, though his expression was more impressed than shocked.
“Uh, yeah,” Loki finally lost his grin. “It's not mine though, I didn't make it! I stole it from Freya.”
“Loki,” Thor shook his head.
“What?” Loki tossed his bright blonde hair like a rock star(or maybe a thirteen-year-old girl). “She never wears it.”
“Is it made of falcon feathers?” Horus had evidently not been appeased by Loki's declaration of innocence. Well, innocent as far as the making of the cloak went. Otherwise, Loki would be the last person I'd refer to as innocent.
“Yeah, they're falcon feathers. Let it go already,” Loki huffed at Horus.
“She lends that cloak to whomever needs it,” Thor continued. “Why would you steal it?”
“It's more fun this way,” Loki grinned and he looked pretty damn good posing in that gorgeous cloak. For precisely thirty seconds. That's how long it took for Horus to barrel into him like a linebacker.
We all gaped as Horus proceeded to pummel Loki's face. Then he took the cloak from Loki's twitching body. Horus stood up, leaving a confused and bloody Loki sprawled on the floor. We continued to stare, all of us frozen in disbelief, as Horus brushed off the cloak and folded it carefully over his arm.
“Hey!” Loki finally found his words and his feet. “What in all nine worlds do you think you're doing? Give me that back!”
“Why?” Horus stared Loki down, his dual colored metallic eyes flashing in the low light. Loki backed up a step as Horus stepped forward. “You stole it from Freya, now I'm stealing it from you. Neither of you deserve this cloak. What kind of monster kills falcons just to put their feathers on a piece of clothing? It's horrific. Like the slaying of babies.”
“The same kind of monster who kills swans to make cloaks from their feathers,” Finn added. “Like killing babies in their mother's arms!”
“I told you I didn't make the damn thing,” Loki huffed and wiped away the blood on his face. “And you, I don't know what you're talking about,” he pointed at Finn before looking back at Horus, “Come on, give it back. Freya's gonna come looking for it and if I don't have it to taunt her with, she's going to be really pissed.”
“Even more pissed than if you taunted her?” I couldn't help it, I had to get in on the action. It was just too entertaining. If only I had popcorn.
“Yes!” Loki settled his violet eyes on me angrily. “She knows the drill. I steal something, she comes to yell at me, we have sex, and then she gets back whatever I stole.”
“You barter stolen items for sex?” I lifted a brow. “Didn't you steal Thor's belt once? And his gauntlets?”
“Now hold on one minute,” Thor growled as Luke gave him a questioning look. He pointed at Luke, “Don't start with me, Satan.”
“It's not that surprising” Cid murmured to Luke and Az. “Vikings go out to sea with only men on their ships.”
“I only do that with the willing,” Loki waved off Thor's irritation and Cid's insinuation. “It's a game I play with Freya. She loves it.”
“Which I guess explains why I had to fight...” I trailed off when I saw both Ull's and Thor's pained expressions. Yeah, probably best not to mention killing Thor's ex-wife. “Sorry. Never mind. Wait, you only said willing, you didn't specify women.”
“I can change into anything, Vervain,” Loki grinned, “male or female.”
“Whoa,” I blinked dumbly as my mind exploded.
“I need that cloak, Horus,” Loki got back on subject.
“No.”
“Aw, come on, what are you going to do with it?”
“Burn it, to honor the falcons who died for it.”
“Are you fucking insane?!” Loki shouted and made a leap for the cloak.
There was another tussle, this one ending with Loki in possession of the cloak and Horus growling through a bloody mouth.
“Stop!” Loki held up a hand when Horus looked like he'd come at him again. “I can change into anything and defeat you, Horus but I respect you too much to do that.”
“Oh but you had no problem changing into a sabertooth tiger for me,” I drawled. No, I couldn't let it go. You try getting threatened rape by a massive tiger with a barbed penis and then come talk to me about letting it go.
“Seriously?” Loki glared at me. “You're going to bring that up now?”
“I will take you on in whatever form you wish,” Horus continued to glare at Loki. “I am Harseisis, Horus the Great, God of the Sun and the Moon, the Falcon Warrior of Egypt. I've helped Egypt rise into a great nation and crushed her enemies beneath my feet. I will have no problems destroying you, little blonde man-woman.”
Oh damn, he went there.
“This cloak is magic, Horus,” Loki kept trying. “It allows the wearer to turn into a bird.”
“Neither your nor I need such an ability,” Horus lifted a brow. “So why do you care if I burn it?”
“Because it's not mine!” Loki screeched.
“A thief protesting property damage bec
ause the item isn't his,” Horus scoffed. “That's preposterous.”
“Alright, alright,” Loki held up a placating hand. “I'm sorry, Horus but there's only one thing left to do.”
“What's that?” Horus watched Loki warily.
“Run away!” Loki clutched the cloak to him as he ran for the tracing wall of Valhalla.
Horus gaped at him a second before he swore under his breath and gave chase. A few moments later we heard Horus curse again and then he plodded angrily back into the hall. Loki had made good on his escape. We all shared relieved and awkward looks. I'm mean, let's face it, no one wanted to see a magic cloak burned. When my gaze settled on Thor, I saw an opportunity to change the subject and I took it.
“Look at you,” I waved a hand to indicate Thor's impressive battle armor. “Still all muscly and everything.”
“Did you just use a quote from that movie about me?” Thor grimaced.
“Yes, I did,” I grinned. “And you recognized it. I'm so proud of you.”
“Why do you hate me?” Thor asked in a deadpan tone.
“If I hated you,” I laughed, “I'd start calling that hammer of yours Myeuh-muh.”
“Do not,” Thor said simply.
That did the trick. Everyone laughed, including Horus. Then Ull suggested we get to discussing what we'd gathered to discuss in the first place. I don't know if I was relieved or not about that. I wasn't looking forward to the talk but I knew I needed help in figuring out what to do. So I settled into a chair with both anticipation and dread.
Arach and Fearghal frowned at me through the entire discussion on Alfheim but everyone else was behind me one hundred percent in wanting to give it up. Finally, I promised Arach that I would keep tabs on it after I handed it over to Freyr and if he wasn't ruling fairly, we'd go in with an army of faeries and kick his butt. Arach even cracked a smile at that.
“But there's no way to separate yourself without risking your life,” Arach said yet again.
“I agree with him on that at least,” Trevor nodded. “I'd rather move to Alfheim with you than chance your death.”
“Finally, someone with sense,” Arach threw his hands up in the air.
“Ruling two territories and one faerie kingdom will be a heavy strain,” Thor said in his deep rumble. “That in itself could kill you.”
“Kill me?” I frowned at him. “How do you figure?”
“We already know that being this Trinity Star has its price,” he set his ocean eyes on me. “Your recovery time has waned, remember? The Grayel and Fountain have both lost their potency already. Which would be ridiculous for a regular god. You heal slower every day. What would the strain of ruling three different worlds do to you?”
“What's he saying?” Arach angled his head toward me in the way he always did when I kept him in the dark about something important. Yes, he had a look just for that.
“It's not a big deal,” I huffed as everyone else suddenly had somewhere else to look. “I can still heal myself with my fire and I have immortality from my fey blood.”
“We don't know that for sure, Vervain,” Arach growled. “You're not exactly a normal fey and evidently you're not a normal goddess either. We have no idea if you're immortal or if your human blood has tainted that.”
“Tainted?” I cocked my head at him and lifted a brow for good measure. “Care to rephrase that?”
“Mortality is a taint,” he stalked closer and stared hard at me. “A disease. It kills every time. Without fail. Do you understand that? Do you understand what I may lose someday? What all of them may lose?” He waved a hand toward my friends.
The edge in his voice was one I remembered from when we'd first met. I'd thought he'd let go of his hatred for humans. But then when someone slaughters your parents right before your eyes, I guess it can be a little hard to forgive. I almost told him about the soul magic, how the fey had used it to control humans and then the human souls had rebelled, causing people to strike out blindly, killing the dragons. It was the faerie's fault that our people had been nearly annihilated, not the humans, but I couldn't do that to him. Better to let him hate humans than live with the guilt that revelation would bring. I loved him too much to bring him that kind of suffering. Even if it meant he hated a part of me for it.
“I understand your perception,” I finally said. “But I perceive it differently.”
Odin started to laugh.
“I fail to see the humor,” Arach turned his glare on Odin. “You stand to lose much as well, Oathbreaker.”
“I just remember this argument so well,” Odin was still smiling, shaking his head. “She's been this way since the first day I met her. A staunch supporter of both mortality and mortals. It's just nice to watch someone else argue with her about it for a change.”
“I don't feel the same anymore,” I rolled my eyes. “I want my immortality. If for no other reason than I never want to leave any of you. But I still don't see mortality as a disease. I understand the reason for it and the gift that living within a cycle can bring.”
“Now is not the time to discuss this,” Horus interrupted me. “Save your breath for the important debate. What do we do about Alfheim?”
“Right,” I gave Horus a grateful glance. “We're getting off subject. There must be a way to siphon out the connection to Alfheim. Maybe with my necklace?” I held up the emerald pendant that hung around my neck, the one Odin had given to me back when I was Sabine. “It drains magic into the earth. Why couldn't it drain a magical connection into the earth?”
“I don't know, Vervain,” Odin frowned at the necklace. “I had no idea the dwarves put magic into it in the first place. I can't say with certainty that it could be used in a way other than you've used it already and I don't see how you could test it.”
“It actually sounds plausible,” Blue spoke into the silence. “Why don't you just go and ask the dwarves?”
“What?” All of the Norse deities seemed to speak at once, turning to look at Blue.
“Well, why not?” Hades lifted his dark shades and eyed the Norse gods. “Are you all afraid of the little dwarves? Are they angry dwarves? Gonna hit you with their tiny hammers?”
I let out a shocked guffaw before clapping a hand over my mouth and trying to look serious.
“They can be difficult,” Vidar answered for everyone. “Moody. Unpredictable. They may welcome our visit with open arms or...”
“They may try to chop off our arms and make them into soup?” I offered.
“Vervain!” Teharon sent me a horrified look, mirrored by Karni Mata, who was standing beside him.
“What's wrong with that?” Arach looked over to Teharon with a mischievous light in his eyes. “They sound like a resourceful bunch.”
Teharon gaped at Arach.
“The fey aren't so picky when it comes to their soup,” I shrugged, remembering how one of the goblins had wanted to make me into soup when I'd first visited Faerie. He'd been so excited, right up until the moment I killed him.
“Meat is meat,” Arach grinned, showcasing his sharp incisors.
“Really?” I rolled my eyes at him. “Are you deliberately trying to make everyone think you're a crazed, cannibalistic savage? Or are you just showing off?”
“I haven't hunted in forever,” Arach's shoulders sagged and he sighed. “Then I thought I was going to war today but no, you saved yourself. Again. It's taking a toll. The dragon in me still wants blood.”
It went quiet for a second. The kind of quiet that's filled with uncertainty. Should I laugh at his psychotic whining? Will the Faerie King kick my butt if I do? That kind of quiet. It didn't last long though. Fenrir's voice boomed out and ended it.
“Well damn, I thought I was the only one!”
“Dad,” Trevor sighed.
“What?” Fenrir huffed. “I was in battle mode and then poof, she's back and I don't get to kill anyone. I don't have a kill switch to just turn on and off. I have to deal with the adrenaline rush and for a wolf, and a d
ragon I imagine, that can be difficult.”
“Exactly,” Arach agreed.
“I did not poof,” I said blandly. “And I see what you did there with the whole kill switch thing. Very witty.”
“No, she didn't poof, she sort of glided,” Torrent added. “Coasted maybe. Sailed, I think is the most correct word.”
“I'm still looking for someone to kill, boy,” Fenrir growled and Torr backed away slowly.
“Dad,” I chastised.
“I'm jesting,” he shrugged and then winked at Arach. Arach started chuckling.
“Oh great, now you two are going to be besties?” I threw my hands up. “We're all doomed.” Then I noticed Vidar's shirt. “Vidar, is that a Silent Bob T-shirt?”
He nodded.
“I had no idea you even knew who Silent Bob was,” I blinked at him.
“When Dad was gone, I watched his Santa TV a lot,” Vidar shrugged.
“Santa TV, eh?” I gave Odin a sassy look and he groaned.
“I like Silent Bob,” Vidar continued, “he's so expressive without using words. Words are really unnecessary.”
“Of course you like him, Silent One,” Trevor laughed. “You're the original Silent Bob.”
“I should get a shirt made that says so,” Vidar glanced at Pan, who was known for having T-shirts made for the group.
“I'll see what I can do,” Pan grinned.
“Can we get back to the damn dwarves?!” Horus nearly yelled. Evidently his patience was wearing thin.
“Relax, Hor,” Pan patted Horus' shoulder and then his eyes went wide as he realized the name shortening didn't work out so well. Or worked too well, depending on how you looked at it.
“What did you just call me?” Horus turned his bi-colored, metallic eyes on Pan.
“Uh,” Pan stuttered and backed away. “That didn't come out right. There was no W in front of it.”
“The W in whore is silent anyway,” Horus growled.
“Yeah,” Pan lost it and started laughing. “How have I never thought of that? It's the best nickname ever.”
“If you call me that again,” Horus narrowed his eyes on Pan, “I will tell all of your little nymphs about that time you went to Vegas and-”