by GR Griffin
It didn't make the guilt any easier. Brahms wondered why he couldn't have fallen in love with someone who would have made less trouble for the vampires. But he was also aware of the peculiarities of the heart, how it made little sense or reason when it came to wanting what it wants. It was enough to make him want to sigh, though he held in that exasperated sound. It would not do to present anything less than a confidant front to his people.
And yet Gideon took one look at him, and knew where Brahms thoughts lay. "It troubles you." He said, his salt and pepper colored hair drenched and plastered against his scalp.
"How can it not?" Brahms demanded. "It is because of me that this is happening. Because of my actions that the Valkyries have come to our island." Gideon didn't try to give him false reassurances, simply nodding a yes in response. It didn't help Brahms' mood, the vampire Lord began to pace the narrow walkway of the castle's ramparts. Gideon remained frozen in place, just watching as Brahms moved. "It's because I...I love her that our people will die this day."
The last had been whispered, Brahms not wanting to risk someone else overhearing those words. To any who would gaze up at the ramparts, they would see their King, his head held high, shoulders back. They would see a confidant man, a determined warrior who knew little of doubts and fears. It would reassure them, but there was little that could do away with the guilt eating away at Brahms from the inside.
"The battle has not begun in earnest." Gideon replied. "Yes, SOME of our people may die. But take comfort in knowing more will die among our enemies' ranks. Odin will rue the day he decided to allow the Valkyrie to hunt on our island."
Those words weren't as comforting as Gideon might have thought, Brahms turning to give him a bleak look. "Silmeria will HATE if the Valkyries are killed." And there in lay another of Brahms' distress. The King of the vampires was well aware of the difficult position Silmeria put him in. For every Valkyrie slain, she would use that as an excuse to hate him, and all the while Silmeria would not shed tears for any of the vampires who died this day.
"We are at war." Gideon finally said. "She was a Valkyrie. She must understand. The Valkyries bring this upon themselves, have invited death to embrace them in coming here. We cannot sit back and be invaded, anymore than they have allowed our kind to successfully run
wild in Asgard."
"It is my worry she will not be as reasonable as you." Brahms understated the matter. "All Silmeria will see is that I caused this. By bringing her here, turning her, I all but laughed in Odin's face."
"You were daring." Gideon acknowledged. "And it is an insult Odin will not soon forget. Nor will the Valkyrie. We cannot afford to be merciful upon them, or else the fighting will never stop. You must put aside your bride's feelings, and send a message to Odin that no more of these invasions will be tolerated."
Brahms knew without Gideon finishing, that the only message Odin would understand was a slaughter. The total death of every Valkyrie and einherjar that had come to the island. It was a loss Odin would take seriously, a loss that might stay his hand from sending more hunting parties to the vampire's island. But could he afford to do such a thing where Silmeria's heart was concerned?
"Silmeria will heal over time." Continued Gideon. "She may never appreciate what has happened this day, but Silmeria will come to savor the life she still has. The eternity you gave her..."
"Or she could spend eternity hating me for what happens today." Brahms grumbled.
"I doubt she could hate you that completely." Was that a smirk that twitched at the corners of Gideon's mouth? "Was not the moment in the ball room proof of that?"
A lesser man would have surely turned flustered, reminded that a private moment had been witnessed by so many. Brahms merely narrowed his eyes at Gideon, his voice a rough growl as he spoke. "The attraction Silmeria feels for me is nowhere near the point of guaranteeing she can be so forgiving. She may, as most fledglings do, come to appreciate the new life she has. She may even make friends among our people. All the while, despising me for what I've done."
"I hope you are wrong about her." Gideon said. "It would be a true pity to have gone to such lengths for a bride who might never return even a fraction of what you feel." Brahms snorted, the sound agitated as he resumed his pacing. "I still think given time, and a chance to calm down, Silmeria will understand. She is a warrior first and foremost. She knows of the bloodshed and death of war, and the tactics that go with the battles. The politics of it all."
"But what rules her more?" Brahms wondered out loud. "Her warrior's instinct, or her woman's heart? If it's the latter, I fear her emotions will not let her see the practical side of what is done today."
"I don't envy you the problem of Silmeria's reactions." Gideon murmured, then spoke louder. "But she is not the only problem you will have to deal with, once this invasion is over with." Brahms fought not to scowl, his angry look such that Gideon took a step back. His hands were held up in submission, showing he was harmless. "Those who would speak against you, will have a field day using this invasion against you."
"I know."
"Then you also know they will blame you. Blame your attraction to Silmeria as the reason this all happened." Gideon continued.
"They been saying for years now that Silmeria has sapped all reason from me." Brahms reminded him. "This will be just the latest in a string of offenses as far as they are concerned."
"You've long held an...infatuation for Silmeria, it's true. But never has that infatuation led to such a catastrophe. Depending on how this day plays out, you may find more of our people siding with your enemies." Gideon sighed. "I will of course do my best to minimize damages, but it could not hurt to take a firmer hand with those who would work against you."
"And what would you have me do to them?" Brahms demanded. "Kill them? No Gideon...that will not earn me the respect of our people. Only their fear."
"I am not suggesting you do anything that overtly ruthless. However..." A slight smile, one that revealed the barest hint of fang. "Send them to the plains of Idavoll. Let the battles there remind them of the fight we wage for our existence."
"Heh...and hope that someone there kills them for me?" Brahms asked.
"If they die there, than it was as fate wills it." Gideon replied, still showing that cold little smile. "They'd certainly serve you better in Idavoll then they do here."
"Here they only grow bloated on blood..." agreed Brahms.
"Plotting all the while, behind your back." Added Gideon. "It is unfortunate you sought love at this ill opportune a time. Silmeria gives them a great advantage..."
"Don't I know it." Brahms grumbled. "But the incident at Idavoll forced my hand." He was of course referring to the time the vampires had lost control, savagely attacking and injuring Silmeria.
"The timing couldn't have been worse." Gideon murmured.
"None of what happened that day was good." Brahms pointed out. "I nearly lost Silmeria then."
"Take comfort that you didn't." Gideon told him. But he seemed distracted, a thoughtful look in his eyes,
"What is it?" Brahms asked him. Gideon seemed to snap out of it, long enough to shake his head.
"It's nothing. Just a thought I had that may be worth following up on at a later date and time."
Brahms was curious, wondering just what thought Gideon had had. Brahms might have pressured him to reveal it, if only to have something to distract himself from the problems at hand. But the invasion was still underway, the Valkyrie hunting party working their way through the dense forest that covered much of the island. Vampires were teleporting about the island, spying on the progress of the Valkyries. They were on no condition to engage the Valkyries and their einherjar, the task of actual fighting falling to the lesser undead that roamed the island.
The shambling ranks of the undead, the zombies and ghouls lurked in the forest. Eager to consume the flesh of the vampires' enemies. Winged nightmares rested in the branches of trees, while on the ground monsters stalked their p
rey. Chimeras, an abomination of monsters pieced together howled, their eerie screams sending birds to scatter in fear. There was even a bone dragon that lurked in the forest's swamp, the creature held together by ancient magics.
The Valkyries had their work cut out for them, fighting waves of these monsters. The undead creatures stood between them and the castle, a living, moving barricade the Valkyries had to overcome if they ever hoped to reach Silmeria. The unnatural shrieks of the undead dying filled the forest, matched only by the screams of the slain Asgardians.
Vampires continued to teleport, reports coming in from what they had seen. A small contingent of einherjar, led by a Valkyrie with flame colored hair had stumbled into one of the many hidden pitfalls of the island. Those who didn't die on impact after the long fall, would soon succumb from the sharp sticks and spears that had lined the hole's bottom. Of course, the Valkyrie who found herself impaled was such a treat, that one of the spying vampires had been unable to resist going to her. Even as she lay there, slowly dying from the multiple wounds she had received, she had been determined. Fierce even, swinging her sword to decapitate the vampire who had lusted after her blood. No other attempts were made on that particular Valkyrie. She was left to die in peace, body and blood safe for the moment.
Another Valkyrie was caught, one of the winged beasts having snagged her shoulders in it's claws. The beast flew through the forest, heralding it's triumph with a repeated roar. That roar would die with a gasp, the Valkyrie having twisted enough to thrust a dagger into the sensitive underside of the monster. The dagger tore open the flesh, blood and intestines falling out, littering the forest below.
Somehow, the Valkyrie survived the fall to the ground. Perhaps it was the many trees that helped break the speed of her fall, the woman crashing into the underbrush, and laying their stunned. Her einherjar had given chase when their Valkyrie had been captured, and now the group of men and women hurried to reach her before the zombies did.
Elsewhere, reports were coming in that a party of Valkyries were engaging the bone dragon. Their mages were working to break apart the ancient enchantment on it's bones. Weapons had little effect on the bones, an unseen life force animating the creature. The monster may have lacked the scale and skin of other dragons, but it was still capable of doing damage. The Valkyries and their einherjar were little more than nuisances, serving as a distraction from the mages that slowly unraveled it's spells.
Numbers were coming in, the estimates guessing that there was over five hundred einherjar working with the dozens upon dozens of Valkyrie present. It was an impressive number, especially compared to the only three hundred vampires on the island. Add the three hundred vampires to the one hundred and fifty types of undead present on the island, and it became difficult to predict who would ultimately win the battle.
They were pretty even on both sides when it came to sheer size of their forces. But the superior skill level of the Valkyrie and the einherjar they had personally trained began to overwhelm the monsters. Ghouls were beheaded, their bodies set on fire. The bone dragon fell apart, as arrows were launched, taking down many of the winged beasts. Little by little, the Valkyries were making inroads, progressing ever closer to the castle that lay in the heart of the forest.
It continued to rain, hours passing by until the sun had set at last. And they could not see the moon, the dark storm clouds still obscuring much of the sky. The rain water made the ground slippery, the dirt turning to mud that got into everything. The Valkyries wouldn't look so perfect, covered in blood and mud, their armors dulled with it. But nothing could shake their determination, the battle maidens and their remaining einherjar marching on the castle. Brahms would give the signal to attack, no content to wait until they were at the castle gate.
The signal was what many of the vampires had been waiting for. They went to battle with eager whoops, teleporting over to the Asgardians. There was an immediate clash of sword and claws, most vampires relying on their bodies to be the weapons that slew the Valkyries.
Arrows would fly, the archers trying to take out the vampires that remained on the ramparts of the castle. Brahms himself would pause there, eyes scouring the field for any sign of the Valkyries that were Silmeria's sisters. Lenneth should have been easy to pick out, her platinum hair a color no other Valkyrie possessed. But there was several black haired Valkyries present, forcing Brahms to go in close to try and identify which one was Hrist.
The instant he appeared on the ground, several groups lunged towards him. Valkyries and swordsmen both, all intent on ending his life. Brahms flung out his arms, waves of power coursing off him. The energy sent his foes falling backwards, knocked off their feet so that he could prowl closer to the first of the black haired women. His progress wasn't as straight forward as he would have like, Brahms having to dodge an axe that was swung at his neck.
He was disappointed when he reached the Valkyrie for she was not Hrist. But the woman was courageous, charging Brahms with a wild yell. He quickly side stepped her weapon, slamming a fist into her armor covered back. She cried out in pain, stumbling down onto one knee. Brahms grabbed her by the back of her hair, hauling her upright as the Valkyrie once again tried to swing her sword at him.
The sword cut through her hair. Brahms was left holding a thick hank of it, the Valkyrie free and turning to slash her sword in his direction. Brahms leapt back, the hair falling from his fist. The two enemies studied each other, the sounds of the battle waging around them fading to a dull roar. Everyone was engaged in the fight, vampires teleporting about, trying to avoid their enemies attacks, and get in close enough to land a killing blow. There was almost no room to move, so crowded was the outside of the castle's grounds.
And then his opponent's eyes narrowed, a look that betrayed her intent a moment before she lunged towards Brahms. Her sword would pass harmlessly through the space Brahms had occupied just moments ago, the vampire lord teleporting behind her. Another fist to her back, her armor splintering from the force. Brahms estimated it would take two, maybe three more poundings before it shattered open completely.
The roar of the battle drowned out individual sounds. Too many were screaming, either in challenge or in pain. The mages were chanting, their voices lost to the screams as they readied their spells. The einherjar were at times glowing, white and green lights encircling them in an attempt to heal their many wounds. Sometimes the healing magic returned to them enough stamina for them to push onward, killing several more vampires before their own injuries became too great to ignore.
The vampires weren't relying on healing magics as heavily as the einherjar were. Instead they preferred the healing properties found in the blood of their enemies, vampires grabbing onto soldiers, and tearing into their veins. Of course they had to teleport their prey elsewhere, it was simply too dangerous to remain on the battlefield and feed. Arrows continued to soar through the air, their whistle sound heralding their arrival moments before they slammed into bodies. Sometimes they speared through a vampire foolish enough to linger and feed out in the open, but more often than not Brahms' people simply teleported out of the arrows' path.
Power was gathering on the battle field. The mages of both side were working offensive spells, the einherjar taking advantage of the conjured storm to unleash lightning down on the battle field. A group of vampires were caught in it's grip, dancing with disjointed movements as the electricity crackled over their bodies. By the time the lightning had run it's course, the vampires were nothing but charred husks, laying lifeless on the ground.
The spells weren't coming as fast as they could, Brahms' people seeking out the mages that the einherjar tried to protect. The oppressive feeling of gathered power was still there, a flaming ball of fire exploding near to Brahms. It sent him and the Valkyrie he fought with flying backwards, the two crashing into a group of combatants. Everyone was knocked off their feet, Brahms rolling with his fall. Before any of his enemies could think to attack him, he was standing, slashing open someone'
s cheek with his claws.
Other vampires teleported to his aide, quick to engage the einherjar. Having faith his vampires would guard his back, Brahms kept his attention on the dark haired Valkyrie. Her long hair cut by her own sword, was falling haphazardly over her eyes. She constantly shook her head, trying to dislodge the wet hair that was determined to remain plastered in place.
Brahms locked eyes with her, his own narrowing a second before he made a mocking gesture, urging her to attack him. Her own eyes flashed with rage, her lips parting to release a scream he could not hear. The Valkyrie launched herself towards him, her swing wild as she tried to take his head. But Brahms had already ducked down, his fist slamming into the front of her armor. It dented inwards, over her stomach. He'd follow up that blow with an uppercut with his left fist, seeing blood and spittle fly from her mouth.
The Valkyrie would stagger back, free hand over her stomach. She was wincing, surely in pain from his assault. And yet she did not give up, did not hesitate any longer than it took her to recover from his punches. She charged, and even as Brahms moved to avoid her sword's thrust, the Valkyrie was lashing out with her leg. The kick caught him in the face, splitting his lip open. He tasted blood, his, but refused to give in to anger. And all because the Valkyrie was only doing her best to stay alive against an opponent she couldn't hope to defeat.
Brahms had been fighting for millennia. He had personally seen to the deaths of many a Valkyrie. Had fed off them, and been infused with the power of their blood. This Valkyrie before him would be no different. She wasn't even in the same league as him, being a minor nuisance at best. On the next swing of her sword, Brahms reached out to grab her wrist. He squeezed down on delicate bone, until it broke, her fingers growing too limp to hold onto the sword.
