by GR Griffin
She continued to ride, muttering urgent pleas to the stallion to go even faster. She could barely concentrate save for the fear she still felt for Silmeria, and roughly twenty minutes would pass before the trio would come upon the vampires' camp. It was a hastily constructed one, only a few tents had been set up. Not all the vampires had returned, but there was enough to give the Valkyries pause. Not Lenneth though, the woman screaming a challenge and charging her horse forward.
The stallion leapt over the heads of the vampires, their claws and weapons striking upwards. The horse whinnied in pain, it's stomach being torn open by the attack. Lenneth was already forward leaping up out of the saddle, only to find herself surrounded by a circle of vampires upon landing. But she barely took notice of them, her eyes registering a keenly felt and stricken horror at the sight of the large vampire who stood with his back to her.
"Brahms!" Lenneth snarled, and stabbed her sword behind her. A vampire was impaled, Lenneth giving her sword a vicious twist as she continued to glare at Brahms. He was holding onto something, a person by the looks of it. Though all Lenneth could currently see was a pale skinned arm that hung limply at it’s side. Brahms was hunched over the form, and from the sounds that she could hear, Lenneth knew that the vampire Lord was in the midst of feeding.
Stomach turning, she pulled her sword free, only to have to slam it into the next vampire. And then the undead King was turning towards her, Lenneth sure all the color had just fled from her face. "Oh, good Gods, no!" She whispered, staring at the young woman in the vampire lord's arms.
Long, blonde hair that had come free of it's ribbon, with strands of it clinging wetly to her neck. The hair couldn’t quite hide the puncture marks there, not the marks and not the blood that was continuing to well out. "Silmeria..." Lenneth murmured, pointing her bloodied sword at the vampire lord. "How dare you!!"
"Keep her occupied." Brahms' voice was a low rumble that moved the vampire throng into action. The other two Valkyries were fighting the vampires outside the circle, leaving Lenneth to face a dozen on her own. She fought like a woman possessed, her energy renewed. Lenneth’s only thought was all that the woman knew, the idea that she had to get Silmeria back from Brahms, and that she couldn't allow him to defile her sister any further. But the vampires might as well have been a hundred, all of them teleporting about her, striking fast and furious. It further enraged Lenneth, the vampires not trying to kill her, instead just working to keep her from their master and his prize.
She could hear the sound of another’s feeding, as well as the screams. Gwendolyn was crying out in pain, the other two Valkyries' fight not going well at all. Lenneth could do nothing to aid her two comrades, still trying so desperately to reach Silmeria. Occasionally she managed to kill a vampire that lingered too long between teleportations, but ultimately they were doing nothing save to tire Lenneth out.
"You're too late battle maiden!" A vampire heralded the sudden sounds of the group's laughter filling the circle. The vampires all seemed to back away from her, allowing Lenneth her first real sight of Brahms and the unconscious Silmeria in a while. Blood was welling up on a cut on Brahm's chest, and Lenneth nearly vomited when she saw Silmeria's lips were painted crimson from it.
"Oh Gods no..." Lenneth whispered, the woman’s free hand coming up to press a fist against her mouth. Brahms had done more than defiled her sister, he had turned her into one of his own kind. This was beyond anything Lenneth could have imagined, a blasphemy of the worst kind.
Brahms was staring at her, his face unsmiling. He wasn't gloating of his victory, not yet at least, but the vampire king also wasn't repentant of what he had done. Lenneth's mind was reeling, all she could think was that she had to get Silmeria back, one way or another. To save her from becoming one of the monsters they had fought against for centuries. Even if to save her ultimately meant taking her sister's own life.
Her thoughts must have shown on her face, Brahms was handing the unconscious Silmeria to one of the other vampires for safe keeping. Before the act was completed, Lenneth was screaming out a challenge, rushing towards Brahms. She barely registered that the other vampires weren't trying to stop her, nor did she noticed the way Brahms had slipped into a defensive stance. All she could focus on was killing the vampire king, and taking back her sister.
Her sword went straight for Brahms’ heart, Lenneth noting he bore no weapon other than his deadly claws and sharp fangs. She didn't expect such an easy victory though, not with a vampire as strong and as physically powerful as Brahms was supposed to be. He proved his strength by stopping her sword with just his bare hands, catching the flat of the blade in between his palms.
Lenneth gritted her teeth, and fought to pull her sword free. The vampire Lord did a twist with his hands, blade nearly being pulled out of Lenneth's grip. She quickly tightened her hold on her sword's hilt, even as she aimed a knee for right between Brahms' legs. He might have been an undead monster, but there was more than enough feeling down below, the vampire howling in rage. He followed up that howl not by hunching over in pain, but by back handing Lenneth across the face.
She thought she saw stars, actually turning from the force of his blow. She quickly swung out with her sword, even though she had yet to recover. His arm came up, letting the sword rebound off his wrist gauntlets. Lenneth quickly slashed upwards, trying to catch him in the face, but Brahms let himself fall backwards to avoid her sword.
"Undead fiend!" She hissed, advancing towards him. "Abominable monster! Give me back my sister!"
"Your sister is lost to you Valkyrie." Brahms retorted. "Now and forever more."
"Never!" Lenneth screamed, though she knew his words to be true. For even if she somehow killed Brahms, and fought her way past all the vampires, what fate was left to Silmeria now, except to die by Lenneth's sword? That was the only choice left to her, the one and only mercy, and it was all to save Silmeria from becoming the monster that Brahms wanted her to be. "You won't get to enjoy this victory. I'll make sure you are nothing more than a stain on my sword before this hour is up!"
"You are no match for me, child." Brahms taunted her. "Not now, not even if you live a thousand years more!"
"I won't know unless I try!" Lenneth retorted, fighting not to give in to the hopelessness of the situation. She began thrusting her sword forward again and again, aiming for any and all vulnerable points on the vampire. The undead king moved even faster than any of the elder vampires she had ever faced before, always blocking her sword's strikes, and even getting in a few punches in on her. They hit her in the stomach, and in the arms, and even once a blow to the face. It stunned her, and made her arm too weak to hold up her sword, though Lenneth kept on fighting, even as her arm came close to breaking under Brahms' assault.
Behind her, she could hear the sounds of feeding. Her Valkyrie comrades had fallen prey to the vampires. It only increased Lenneth's upset, and she made a desperate swing for Brahms' thick neck. He blocked that with such force, that she was knocked back, her arm stunned from the fingers to her shoulder. And still she tried to stab her sword one last time, only to have the vampire sweep out her feet from under her with a kick.
With a startled cry, Lenneth hit the dirt, Brahms landing on top of her. She glared up at him, his claws at her throat, gripping the soft and tender flesh there. All it would take was him to pull, and her throat would be ripped free of her flesh. Lenneth felt despair settle in her all the more strongly, knowing she had failed her sister for the last time.
"Get it over with then!" Lenneth hissed at Brahms, her fingers having gone limp around her sword. Someone snatched it away from her, but Lenneth didn't take her eyes off the undead king's face.
She tensed up, waiting for the killing blow but Brahms was staring down at her with a considering look. "You're Silmeria's sister, aren't you?" He then asked, and Lenneth was shocked that he knew even that much. "It would upset her if I killed you…"
"Killing me will be the least of your problems if my sister ri
ses as one of the undead!" Lenneth snapped, and was enraged to see a faint smirk on his lips.
"She will rise, and after a time, Silmeria will come to accept what has happened to her. It is inevitable…"
"You're mad if you think my sister can ever accept being made into one of your creatures!" Lenneth retorted. "Lord Odin will not stand for this indignity! He will not allow you to get away with this!"
"He will have no choice!" roared Brahms. "Tell your King I have taken your sister as my wife." Lenneth's eyes went wide with astonishment, the woman’s heart beating faster in her chest. "He'll have to find someone else to marry the elf." His smirk became more pronounced, Brahms mocking. "You think I did not know Odin's plans for her? I knew everything! Nothing gets past my spies!"
"You.…"
"I waited a long time for your sister to be in a prime position to be vulnerable. You have my gratitude for delivering her to me. But that gratitude can only get you so far." He slowly released his hold on Lenneth, getting up off her. "Return to Asgard. Tell Odin of everything that has happened." Lenneth started to glance in the direction of the vampire who had taken her sword, but Brahms chuckled. "We will not be returning your sword to you."
It was a feint on Lenneth's part, the Valkyrie suddenly lunging to her feet. In the process, she palmed the dagger that was hidden under her armor’s long pleated skirt, pulling it free of the leather sheathe strapped to her thigh. She worked to stab it into the smirking vampire Lord, but Brahms was not caught unaware. The last thing she saw, was his fist coming towards her face, and then all went black, Lenneth being forced unconscious.
Chapter 3: Three
Nearly two days would past. Two long and grueling days that was only exacerbated when the storm that the clouds had been threatening the forest with finally broke free. With a great sky rending crack, the waters had then fallen. It was cold and it was brutal, the rain a torrential down pour that soaked through to just about everything. Even the dress that she wore underneath her armor, the water seeping in through the openings about her neck and her shoulders. Lenneth was thoroughly soaked within minutes, frozen and absolutely miserable though the rain could not sour her mood any further. Not when she knew that her sister Silmeria was lost to her, lost to them all.
It was almost enough to make Lenneth weep, with tears that would be born of the rage and the helplessness that she had felt, the fear that she still harbored for her sister's soul. Sometimes Lenneth would wonder if she wasn't already crying, her cheeks wet not just from the rain but with her anguished tears. She’d never know for sure, anymore then she would make a move towards wiping her face dry, always instead sitting rigid in the saddle of her horse, staring straight on ahead.
Her grief, her fear, even her anger. They all worked together to make progress difficult. Lenneth felt it in her every act, the woman second guessing herself constantly. It was a war of what she should do, versus her irrational wants. How the Valkyrie tortured herself as she fought to drive her horse forward. To bring to an end her long travels was pure agony when every fiber of her being urged Lenneth to turn back. Something inside her screamed at Lenneth. Screamed at her to go off in hot pursuit of the vampires and the sister that they had stolen from her.
She wasn’t as far gone as that. Not even Lenneth’s grief could blind her to the harsh truth of the matter. The utter futility of such a move. Lenneth knew that she needed to get reinforcements, dozens upon dozens of Valkyrie maidens and a small legion of their einherjar. Only then might the divine forces stand a chance, only then might they be able to hold off the vampires long enough for Lenneth to retrieve her sister.
The Valkyrie maiden tried not to think on what she would have to do once Silmeria was back under her care, Lenneth feeling a shiver go through her. Silmeria was no doubt transformed after tasting Brahm's blood, the young woman neither a Valkyrie Goddess nor the mortal female that Odin’s will would have had her remain as. Instead Silmeria would now be Brahms’ undead bride, a vampire whose very existence offered Lenenth only a limited window of chance to save her sister’s soul. There was no helping the existence that she had become, Silmeria lost to her, to them all. The slim chance for her immortal soul however still existed, still gave Lenneth some twisted form of hope to cling to. For she knew that long before Silmeria killed and drank of another creature's blood, the young woman would have to die a second time. To let otherwise happen, would leave Silmeria damned for sure, the consumed blood of her victim the catalyst for untold blasphemous evil. The worst was that Lenneth wasn't sure how much time she had left. How long before her sister, Silmeria, could no longer hold out against the unnatural thirst that all vampires’ harbored within them?
Time and grief working against them both, it was a bitter pill to swallow, the knowledge that Lenneth would have to hurry to save her sister, Silmeria, from eternal damnation through the very act of ending her life. There would be no no joy in the killing of Silmeria, although some part of Lenneth’s soul would find solace if the act prevented her sister from being forced to spend an eternity killing. That unquenchable thirst would drive her to it, the blood of the inhabitants of the nine realms needed for the woman’s very survival. The only possible way that this could be made any worse, was the idea of Silmeria spending an eternity blaspheming at Brahms’ side.
Lenneth hoped that Silmeria would be able to fight him, and to resist the temptations that Brahms and that of the blood that would call to her now. The Valkyrie nearly let out a sigh then, lips tightly pursed together as the woman’s hands gripped a harsher rein on that of the horse she had borrowed. This mare was nothing like the stallion that Lenneth was used to riding, being instead a dappled gray and brown mare that lacked the sturdy strength of the war horses that the Valkyries normally rode. But of the fifteen horses that had been brought as part of Silmeria's escort, none had survived. Not the four stallions of the Valkyries, not the two mares that had dragged Silmeria's carriage forward. And certainly not that of the mixed breeds the einherjar had rode upon.
What had happened in the forest clearing had been a brutal slaughter, a calculated carnage that left no one from Asgard alive, not even their animals. No one alive that is, save for Lenneth herself, a fact that surprised as much as astounded the Goddess. She still didn't understand why Brahms would have spared her life any more then she could make herself believe that he cared so much about Silmeria as to show a mercy to Lenneth. It was a cruel kind of mercy though, Lenneth fighting not to growl under her breath, as she remembered neither wanting nor asking for it.
It wasn’t the only thing that she could remember. Lenneth could remember waking up, with more than half the day having passed. The sky by then had darkened even further, night having come at last. Besides her had knelt a woman. Lenneth had immediately known her to be an elf, the green colored hair and the pointed ears of their kind an instant give away. The elf whose name she had learned to be Rosselier, had been crouching down besides her, helping to turn Lenneth onto her back to check over the Valkyrie for any wounds. That Lenneth had sustained none had amazed and astounded everyone. It was an especially miraculous outcome when one took in to account the defiled states of the two other Valkyries found dead on the grassy floor of the forest.
Lenneth sincerely wished that she could have remained for a proper burial for the Valkyries, Gwendolyn and Jacquelyn, but there had simply been no time. She had had to entrust their bodies to the elves, gaining their promise to not only bury the Valkyries, but to find and do the same to the remains of their destroyed entourage. Not all of the elves would choose to remain behind, though enough remained to oversee and tend to the task that she had asked of them. Instead a small number of the elves had insisted on accompanying Lenneth, and try as she had, the Valkyrie had not been able to think of a reason as to why she’d be able o refuse them this.
Not when it was their horse she had borrowed, as well as fresh supplies, and the new sword that was sheathed in a scabbard at her side. Rosselier would be among the elves that had insist
ed on traveling with Lenneth, and it was Rosselier whose healing powers had tended to Lenneth, and helped eased the Valkyrie Goddes to regain consciousness a lot sooner than she would have. The elf’s magic was truly beneficial, and it was for that reason first that Rosselier was a valuable asset to have around. She may not have been a warrior, but as a healer, the elf was a literal life saver.
It was because of Rosselier's magic that Lenneth wasn't in any physical pain. The same couldn’t be said for the pain of her heart, the Valkyrie caught in a maelstrom of emotional agony. Her heart’s turmoul drove her sense of urgency, the doubts that Lenneth second guessed herself with, plaguing her every step of the way. The others pretended not to notice, the elves that had accompanied Lenneth on her return journey to Asgard, numbering as ten in all. They were a mix of male and female warriors, many of whom had large oak carved bows strapped to their backs. It was the chosen weapon of their kind, the elves ready to unleash death and devastation with their arrows. But there was one who differed, who stood out just as much as the healer Rosselier.
This elf was a man, a warrior bred and born true. He carried a broadsword, the bladed weapon nearly the size of the length of the elf’s body. The warrior positively rippled with muscle upon muscle, his body honed to the impressive size needed to effectively use such a large blade. Thus the man rode upon a large war stallion, the only kind of horse that would have been able to bear the weight of such a giant of an elf.
He had been the second elf for Lenneth to have noticed upon awakening to the worried face of Rosselier. He hadn't been anywhere as concerned as the female elf had been, more annoyed than anything over the situation that Lenneth had barely survived through. That annoyance had turned to outrage when Lenneth had confirmed the fate that had befallen Silmeria. The elves had quickly moved into action, having come prepared for the worse. When Silmeria and her escort had not arrived at the Elven village, a good twenty-five elves had been dispatched. The hope had been that the reason behind the delay had simply been that of the party somehow getting lost. But that hope had been dashed when they had come upon the downed valkyries, Gwendolyn and Jacquelyn's bodies bearing multiple bite marks and savage tears. The vampires had feasted upon them, draining them dry of every drop of blood. Lenneth had been the only one to remain untouched, the only mark from her encounter, that of the bruise on her face from Brahms’ fist.
