Chapitre 10: Remember
Michael feasted with his warriors in Valhalla until late into the night, and though exhaustion clawed at him, beckoning him to fall into bed - there was one thing he had to do.
From his office he retrieved a packaged, wrapped in deep blue silk, and struck out for the Hall of Valkyries. He was unsure how he would gain access, but knew he had to try. Odin had entrusted the gift to him and Michael had procrastinated its delivery too long already. He had a feeling that the staff that lay within that cloth symbolized an end to something beautiful. And a beginning of something he feared in his core. He had no reason to think this, but the trepidation had already delayed him too long.
To his surprise, Fiahre stood guard at the eastern gate and his shoulders relaxed.
“Lady Valkyrie,” he said, his lips quirking at the teasing nickname. Though Fiahre was a Valkyrie, and they most certainly deserved the honorific of lady, he and Fiahre had grown up together like brother and sister, leaving little room for such seriousness.
“My lord high general,” Fiahre said in a mock-low voice as if she were a man instead of the beautiful golden-haired woman she was.
“Hush, now.” Michael leaned in close and kissed her on the cheek - something she wouldn’t normally allow but tonight was unique among nights. Never before had brother been called upon to fight against brother; sister against sister. “I need to see Desi,” he whispered into her ear. He stepped back, watching Fiahre’s face for allowance or rejection, but she remained impassive and his heart sank.
He sighed and ran a hair through his dark, curly hair. He really should have thought to have someone cut it off before the battle - he’d have to do it himself. He feared he’d grown soft in the years since their last conflict. Sure, he trained daily with his warriors, but nothing had been foreseen about such a war coming to their lands.
Oh, such a war.
Fiahre shook her head. “You know I would if I could, brother.”
Michael looked at his feet before meeting Fiahre’s gaze - before seeing the gleam in her shining blue eyes. He narrowed his eyes at her.
“But since she’s not in her rooms, I can’t admit you.”
“Is she attending Mahria?” Perhaps Mahria would grant him entrance. Surely she’d understand, even if Fiahre was being annoying.
Abruptly, Fiahre thunked Michael on the head with her staff. “She’s not within,” she said with a meaningful stare.
Michael’s lips quirked upward into a smile as he took a step back, gave Fiahre a jaunty salute, then turned on his heel. As he jogged down the dark street, he heard her low chuckle behind him. He cut across the lawn to the stand of trees that lined the entire city center, then ducked through them, on toward the place he knew she would be. As he drew nearer, he slowed to a walk, not wishing to startle her.
They’d discovered this small meadow long ago and though it was close to town, they’d never been disturbed there. And so, as expected, Desi sat alone, twirling a stem of the tiny white belled flowers, lost in deep thought.
He cleared his throat as he approached and Desi glanced over her shoulder at him, a smile already gracing her lovely lips. When she spied the long package he held, she spun around and grinned. “What’s that you got there?” She eyed the object in his hand. “Fancy.” She grinned.
“I hope you like it - it’s a gift from Odin. And from me.”
Michael laid the package over her knees and Desi unwound the blue fabric until the staff came free. “Oh,” she breathed. The staff laying across her lap and her face turned upward toward the moon’s glow reflecting off of the nearby planet Jotenheim. “This is the Staff of Knowledge.”
Michael nodded, sitting so he faced Desi and pulling her closer to him. “Odin has intended you to have it for a long time now, but I wanted to add something to it. To make it wholly yours.” His eyes flicked to the carvings Desi’s slim fingers were tracing absently.
She inspected the runes he’d labored over the past few days, her fingers grazing easily over the well-worn, polished wood.
“They mean -”
“I know.” She glanced at him, her smile wide and bright and her eyes shining with tears. “Remember,” she said, stroking the runes that bordered the central symbol. “Love.” The way the word sounded on her lips, the way she caressed the complicated symbol that represented passionate, eternal love, drove thought from his mind and he cupped her face in his hands before covering her lips with his.
After a moment, Michael leaned back. He glided his fingers over the carving for eternal on Desi’s new staff. “But this isn’t exactly a warrior’s weapon.” If she took that to battle tomorrow - it wouldn’t be enough.
She bumped her shoulder to his again. “Don’t worry, I’ll have my weapons.” She shrugged.
“Odin had little say about why he chose to give it to you now - only that you should have it. He said you would need it in the days to come.” Michael considered telling her why he had delayed bringing it to her, of the worry that ate at his heart like Nidhogg chewed on the roots of the worlds, but Desi stole the moment when she jumped to her feet.
“That must be why he taught me to do this.” She held the staff in her hand, excitement lighting her face. “Watch.”
A flash of golden light pulsed at her breastbone - and the staff disappeared.
A slow smile spread across Michael’s face. “You are embracing your destiny?”
She shrugged again as she withdrew the staff from within herself - or rather, from the piece of the Aesir dimension she held within her. She dropped to the ground beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know about destiny. Mine seems more uncertain than anyone’s.”
“How can you say that?” Michael angled his body so he could see her and stroked her cheek with the back of a knuckle.
She lifted her shoulder again - a habit he knew she used to disguise emotions she didn’t want to deal with - and dropped her eyes to the staff across her lap. “I am neither heir nor Valkyrie. Neither wife, nor sister. I belong to the gods, but not to the people. There’s no place for me.” She glanced up at him, watching him from beneath her long, dark lashes. “I sort of understand how he feels, you know.”
“Who?” Michael paused. “You mean, Loki?” He frowned, trying to make sense of her words.
Another shrug. “You know. As far as not feeling like there’s a place for him. Maybe if he had Midgard, he could rule there - and I could be his heir. Don’t get me wrong -” she hurried to add at the stricken look on Michael’s face. “I am not ambitious. But Thor is here - what need is there of another god, let alone two?”
Michael slipped a hand around the back of her neck and gently pulled her to his chest. “I understand, my love.” His body quivered, but no longer with the desire of moments before. Now he trembled for fear of hearing the answer to the question he must ask next.
“Desi?” He took in a long, deep breath of preparation.
“Yes?”
And let it out slowly. “With whom will you stand on the morrow?”
She stilled, and his heart sank. He wouldn’t raise his sword against her. Couldn’t. Ever.
“I’ve thought long and hard about it,” she said. “Mahria, Odin - they both invited me to feast with them tonight, but...I couldn’t. I had much to think about and I needed to decide for myself for once. I needed to be free to listen to my own mind. To choose for myself.”
Michael didn’t dare to breathe as he waited for her to say the words. If she joined with Loki - everything would change. He would have to resign as Odin’s general. He would have to choose another to serve in his stead...
“Do you understand?” Desi asked.
He still held her against his chest. Still stroked her hair. “Yes,” he said, his voice breaking on the word. He wasn’t sure he did - oh, he understood her desire to know her own mind, to choose for herself, but how could she think Loki’s plan had merit? The thought swam in his mind, unable to find purchase it was so disturbing, so heartbreaking, so -
“I will stand with you.” The words were said so quietly. Barely a breath on the air, barely audible beyond the thundering in his ears, the panicked thoughts in his head.
“What?” he demanded as he pushed her back, his eyes peering deep into hers.
“Loki is wrong,” she said definitively. “I will stand with my grandfather - and I will stand with you.”
Michael cried out in relief as he crushed Desi to his chest, and tears fell into her lustrous dark hair.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone