#((Eydis caring too much about the well-being’s of strangers))

[ofluckandmagic]

“Nothing! I swear!” She replied, standing a little ways away. Technically speaking, she’d merely stumbled across him, but Eydis wasn’t looking to pick fights, nor did the young half dwarf want to get involved in anything. Although, getting involved in things was impossible to avoid when you were coping with the effects of Fimblewinter by avoiding responsibility by sneaking into one of the few Taverns in Midgard that was still in business post desolation. “I jus’ you looked lonely ‘s all.

For once, Eydis wished she had the confidence Brok did. Instead, she fumbled over her words, barely confident enough to do much of anything. She was doing the best she could, though, given the circumstances. Staying out of the cold in the only way she knew how: staying inside.

She looked rather strange for a dwarf, with two folded leathery dark green wings, tiny horns growing from her skull, and a winding scaled tail with sharp spines. Albeit, these features were usually hidden from sight, not noticeable to the eyes of most Midgardian’s, but Gods saw right through the illusions. They always did.

@ofluckandmagic bet you didn't realize you were secretly liking for a starter from Thor

"What do you want?" he asked, sensing someone standing near him, without looking up from his drink. "If the Allfather sent you, tell him I'm busy," Thor grumbled. His father expected him to be constantly at his beck and call, and well….., usually, he was.

He knew Sif hated it when he dropped whatever he was doing the moment Odin said he had a job for him. And if he was truthful with himself, deep down…, he hated it too.

[waiting4inspiration]

A Queen behind a King III (Ivar x Reader)

Summary: Your rebellion doesn’t end in success and on your banished, you run into a familiar, friendly face that helps you. Ivar meets a merchant after the rebellion and realizes how much you had done for his kingdom

Warnings: I skipped the fight because I’m no good at fighting scenes, angst, strong language, mentions of a war, banishment, little fluff, mentions of murder

Word Count: 2,758

Part 1 II Part 2 II Vikings Masterlist

You were a fool to believe that you had a chance against Ivar. A fool to think that he didn’t have a plan. Of course he had a plan. The merchants didn’t even get past the gates of Kattegat. 

You had to retreat. And it was a sour defeat. 

But it didn’t end there. Ivar wanted you. He saw you leading the attack and wanted revenge on you for betraying him. They found the merchant camp, and you were the only one that survived the slaughter. 

“You’re not as loyal as you make yourself out to be, wife.”

“I was loyal to you until you started being an asshole.”

Banished. Of course, that’s what Ivar declared you be. Your fate would be determined by anyone out there that now has the opportunity to kill you and get away with it. A banished person has no rights when it comes to life or death. And Ivar doesn’t care what becomes of his now ex-wife.

You weren’t even given a horse. 

“I did everything for you.”

“And now, you are nothing.”

“Queen (Y/n).” That voice. You know that voice. 

Turning around when you hear horses near you, you wrap your arms around your body when you see King Eydis ride to you. There’s a comforting smile on his face that warms your heart. 

King Eydis is the king Ivar had to talk to but was too drunk to be a king, so you took over. You were the one that came to an agreement and ended up making more than just peace. You gave way to the possibility of an alliance that would be discussed when he returned. 

Now, that won’t happen. 

He dismounts his horse and frowns at your state. There’s a cut on your lip and a slight bruise on your cheek under the red eyes you have from crying. Ivar proved to you that there’s nothing you could do or say to save your wreaked marriage when he hit you again. This time, on purpose and hard enough to leave a trace for a few days. It goes well with your dishonor, he said. 

“What happened to you?” Eydis question gently, slowly reaching up to take your chin between his fingers to inspect your face. 

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders. “I’m not a queen anymore,” you laugh, stepping away from him and looking back the way you came from. “I tried to overthrow my husband and I lost. He banished me and now, I’m nothing. I’m a nobody.”

“You’re too clever to be a nobody,” he mentions with a small laugh, making a faint smile grow on your face. “You know how to rule and how to rule well. I’d say that you were born to be a queen,” he says. Walking closer to you, he holds out a friendly hand and gives you a reassuring smile. 

Biting your lip hesitantly, you turn your gaze away from his hand and stare at the ground. “A lot of people thought that too. But it looks like they were wrong,” you mutter, wrapping your arms tighter around your body when a cold breeze blows by. 

Eydis notices your slight shiver and pulls off his cloak as he steps forward to wrap it around your body. “I’m never wrong about the people I meet.” Your head snaps up to his at his gentle touch. Something you haven’t felt from Ivar in a long time. “The Gods aren’t done with you yet, my queen. I can feel it,” he whispers, moving to stand by your side to lead you to the party he is traveling with. “I’ll gladly take you to where you wish to go. It’s not wise to be traveling alone as a banished woman.”

His kindness and sincere voice warm your heart and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. You shake your head, blink, and realize that you don’t actually have anywhere to go. You just wanted to get away from Kattegat before Ivar decides to send assassins to kill you or something like that. “I...don’t know where I’m going.” Eydis looks down at you but doesn’t stop walking forward. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” you add, coming to a halt in front of his horse and turning to face him. 

He smiles at you and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “Then you’ll come with me back to Fjoll.” His kingdom. “You’ll be under my protection and you’ll be free to come and go as you wish.”

You’re speechless at his offer, staring up at him like a bashful kid as you shake your head in disbelief that you’re still being smiled down at by the Gods. You’re certain Eydis has been sent by them. You don’t see yourself surviving for long as a banished woman. “I will never forget your kindness, King Eydis.”

“Please. Just, Eydis,” he chuckles, moving to mount his horse before holding out his hand to help you up behind him. 

When it came to the rough things, things that had to do with war, treason, and that kind of thing, Ivar deals with that fairly quickly. Hence why the battle with you and those merchants and your banishment all took part on the same day. He didn’t need to think about what he wanted to do with you when he saw you leading a pathetic army of merchants to Kattegat. 

What he wasn’t so skilled in was cleaning up his messes. You used to do that. 

You used to care for the people hurt by his fights, make sure the family affected were taken care of. You made sure that there was food for the people after a war, no matter how small or easy it was. He’s never seen his people so...close to death before. And he doesn’t know where to start to help. 

It’s been a few days since you were banished. He thought that things would have sorted itself out in that time. But the city looks just as miserable, if not more, than the day you left. 

People have stopped begging him for help as he passes them in the streets, all of them muttering things among themselves. And it’s not about how he’s a cripple. It’s about how he’s a poor king that doesn’t care for his people anymore. “The queen would have cared.”

Hearing those words makes him freeze. And he realizes that it is true. You would have cared. He’s seen you care. Like a mother to a city of children. 

“King Ivar?” His head snaps to the side where he hears his name being called. Standing not too far from him is a younger merchant who had just sailed in. Since the attack, the merchants that have come in know nothing about the uprising or know better than to try it again. 

Of course, Ivar couldn’t stop trading. That would be like cutting the vein that supplies a body with life. Kattegat would die if Ivar stopped trading. “I was wondering if you could convey my thanks to your wife, the queen?”

This man doesn’t know what happened. He doesn’t know that you have been banished. But his words make Ivar frown and turn to face him in interest. “Why?” he harshly questions, the word spitting out with venom at the mere mention of you. 

“She helped me when I had nothing. I had no family, no job. Nothing. It was just me,” he begins to explain. Ivar rolls his eyes, having no patience for this, and turns to walk away. “Had it not been for her, I wouldn’t have met my wife and I wouldn’t be expecting my first child.” 

That makes Ivar freeze. He looks back at the man who gives a small smile. “I realize she must be busy. But it would mean more than anything if she knows how much she has changed my life.”

How much she has changed my life.

Those words ring in Ivar’s mind as he looks out at the docked trading ships. And he thinks, how many merchants have you helped? How many people’s lives have you changed?

How many lives could you have changed if he hadn’t banished you or if your marriage didn’t fall to pieces?

Ivar doesn’t reply to the young merchant. He only turns around and walks away. He starts to think that perhaps banishing you might have been a drastic step. But he doesn’t know. He always had you to stop him if he was rushing into things. 

Now, he doesn’t know anymore. 

He doesn’t know what to do to help his own people. He trusted that you knew how to do that. 

He doesn’t know where to start caring for them. You always knew. 

There’s a lot of things you’ve done that he didn’t know about. That he doesn’t know how to do or where to start. And he’s starting to regret all that. 

Fjoll reminds you of how Kattegat looked when you were a child, a vibrant city, full of color and lively people that give you a smile as you pass by. Even if you’re a stranger. Even though they still carry weapons with them, it’s not as they’re waiting for a fight like it is in Kattegat. 

Eydis wants to keep you close to a fire, saying that he fears you’ll die from the cold. Fjoll is colder than Kattegat, but you don’t mind that. Anywhere will be warmer away from Ivar. 

And though you were dressed in clothing Eydis tells you was his sister’s before she married, it’s better than any jewel you were ever given.

“Queen (Y/n)-”

“Just (Y/n). I am not a queen anymore, Eydis,” you say, realizing now that you have a smile on your face as if you hadn’t been banished from your home days ago and ruined your marriage by trying to push the prophecy that seer told you. 

Eydis smiles at how you call him by name, and with ease. It took you the first couple of days to stop addressing him formally. He prefers you calling him like a friend. Like an equal. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, this question has been on my mind since the day I found you in the wild,” he begins, his eyes falling to the fading bruise on your cheek and the healing cut on your lip. 

You sigh, lean back in your seat, and drop your eyes to your hands folded in your lap. You know what the question is. And you’ve been dreading it. He wants to know how you and the merchants were defeated. “I told the merchants that Ivar didn’t have a plan because he didn’t care about that. I gave them hope that we could win. I did the one thing he always told me not to do, especially in times of war,” you explain. 

“You underestimated him,” Eydis speaks, earning a nod from you as your lower lip tucks in between your lips. 

“The merchants asked me to stay out of the fight, saying that Kattegat would need a leader when they’re done with Ivar and that I deserved to be that leader. I sat in the distance to watch the victory I was sure would come,” you begin, lifting your eyes to Eydis. There are tears brimming your eyes, flickers of the memory in them, as if you’re seeing a ghost from your past. “When they got to the wall, a rain of fire fell down upon them. I don’t know what he melted. Gold, silver, iron, I don’t know. All I remember is the smell of burning flesh and the screams of agony. Those that didn’t die by fire, were shot down as they tried to escape.”

Eydis is shocked at your words, at your story. Tears run down your cheeks. And he can’t even begin to imagine the sight you had seen. 

Sniffing as you wipe the tears away, you shift in your seat and give a sad laugh as you shake your head. “I retreated back to camp to warn those that stayed behind, not knowing that Ivar’s men had followed me. They killed everyone in the camp and then dragged me back to the Great Hall. And...you know what happened after that,” you add to your story, gesturing to your bruise and lip.

“And yet, you still carry on with a high head and tall body. As if you’ve learned from your mistakes,” he mentions, reaching out to place his hand over yours as he leans forward. 

You chuckle, shrug your shoulder and lift your gaze back up to him. “I have. I know what I witnessed will probably forever haunt my dreams and I will forever ask the Gods why they contradict themselves. But I know that I cannot wallow in pity. That would just kill me. I have to learn and change so that I don’t make the same mistake again,” you whisper, smiling at the smirk of pride growing on Eydis’s face. 

“And that’s what makes you a good queen.” His words turn your cheeks red, your head to drop between your shoulder, and your heart to skip a beat in your chest. No once, has Ivar told you of your ability as a queen. He’s never said how good you are at it or applauded you for anything you’ve done. For him, and for the kingdom. “You must know of the stories of my inability to secure a queen,” he suddenly speaks, keeping his hand above yours and only curling his fingers under your palm to give your hand a gentle squeeze. 

You have heard those stories. Though, you say that it’s not his fault. His previous wife had been more in love with gold and jewels that her selfishness killed her when he was away hunting. A thief had snuck in, slit the queen’s throat and stole all her precious belongings. 

His lover before that, couldn’t handle the idea of the responsibility that came with being queen. And when he asked her to marry him, she ran away in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. 

“One day, I asked a seer if it was the Gods’ plan that I ever have a wife. Or heirs,” he mentions, making you chuckle as you turn your hand around and allow him to weave his fingers through yours. 

In the past few days, he has shown you nothing but kindness and - dare you say it - love. You don’t fear doing something wrong as when you were with Ivar, even before you were married. You had to mind what you said to him, in case it was something insensitive or if he over thought it and snapped. With Eydis, you’re free to speak your mind, ask whatever you want, without fearing that he’ll snap, scold you, or call you stupid as Ivar had done before. 

Here in Fjoll, with Eydis, you feel more like a person than when you were in Kattegat, with Ivar. 

“And what did the seer say?” you urge, looking up at him again to find that he’s already staring at your face. 

“That I would find a queen, lost and broken. I would call her ‘friend’ at first, but later, give her my heart. And when I asked the seer if the woman he speaks of will be accepted by my people, he told me that they already have,” he says. 

You hum, pull your lips in a thin line and think to yourself about how the Gods like talking in riddles. “The seer told me I would one day rule a great kingdom. That they have more in mind for me than scarps,” you whisper, chuckling at the thought of how you two are sharing in prophecies, not seeing how there is a possibility that they could link up. 

Eydis, on the other hand, sees it. Even though you have only been here for a few days, he can see that his prophecy is about you. A queen he found lost in the wild after being banished, broken with a bruised cheek and cut lip. He called you ‘friend’ during your first meeting, the meeting he should have had with Ivar. But now, he can see him giving you his heart, and just because of how your smile lights up your eyes and the room. 

You don’t know that his people consist of merchants and their families. No doubt, merchants you’ve helped before. 

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[werecapwolf-blog]

morning after the last day of shloshim & he and bucky uncover the mirrors together. (they’ve got all of two anyhow.) he wonders if the mirror sees the difference that steve does in bucky– 30 days and part of him seems a stranger, or just– older. more somber. but that’s what losing your mother will do to you, give you your first real sip of how bitter it tastes when the world takes somebody you love away.

bucky’d been more strict about doing this the right way than steve can ever remember him being. bucky’d never been much for church or well– synagogue he supposes. steve thinks he’s doing it for eydie– because she’d probably be getting a kick out of bucky being all traditional– steve hopes wherever she is, she can see her son.

bucky’s face is dark, shadowed with stubble and sadness and when steve cups his face it’s rough against his palms. like a tangible layer of mourning & steve’s never been good at letting a layer be between them.

         “c��mon. let’s get you cleaned up, you’ve got work later.”

their relationship has always been structured a certain way– built on certain frames, ‘bucky takes care of steve (when steve will let him)’ & ‘steve takes care of the chores’ but these are not eternal absolutes. they have each never been ONE THING to the other, they’re changeling & mist & they support each other. that is the only absolute truth steve believes in sometimes.

it says something steve’s almost afraid to think much less name, that bucky is letting steve take care of him. presses him into one of their creaky dining room chairs & wants to kiss him. wants to just to see if his mouth can twist bucky’s up into a smile– his mouth has been so set lately; stiff & stubborn. not at all like him, like his easy manner–smirking mouth & dancing eyes. it’s the pliancy that kills him, the way bucky’s body just sort of sinks against the chair. fire not put out but smothered a little, burning more like an ember than a flame.

steve is no good at this & he knows it– there is nothing in him at times that feels like it was built for comfort, no soft places save his heart in his bony frame, no gentle touch in reedy fists. love, or something like it, sits poorly on him. fits him about as well as bucky’s borrowed clothes, hanging loose, too big for him to feel like he fits comfortably inside of the feeling. (but still he clings at it. tight gripped determination on it’s lapels, pulls it snug around his shoulders to feel like it fits him well.) neither of them speak words like love between them, neither fires that first shot would mean bloodshed & hurt, if they spoke it, they’d also have to acknowledge the impossibility of it. instead they indulge each other in little sweetnesses, shut the door & shut out the world and play at a relationship that won’t—can’t, see the light of day.

steve couldn’t hold bucky’s hand at the funeral, he’d ached to do so. this is what he can do instead, fill warm water from the sink into a basin, rub shave lotion carefully over bucky’s face, into the prickly growth of dark hair. he can sit on bucky’s lap, feet barely brushing the floor and carefully and methodically peel that shadow off of bucky’s face, swishing the razor through the water between passes. they don’t speak but that has never stopped them from comunicating, bucky’s hand is warm on the small of his back, finger spread wide with the guise of steadying. bit by bit, swirl of dirty water by splash, bucky is revealed in patches, then all at once as he towels himself clean. his face is the same, the cut of his jaw, the straight line of his nose, the softness of his lips and the smile that always seems to be ready to come out– tucked just there at the corner of his mouth. it’s the eyes that do it, something else in them that didn’t seem to be before, gaze heavier or just shaded with how fleeting life & the people in it could be.

steve cups his cleaned shaven cheek, the damp warmth of his clean skin feels good under his fingers, feels like a piece of normalcy they’re trying to build again.

“there you are.” steve says, soft. “almost thought i’d lost you under all that.” playfulness is in his voice but— it clashes with the fear and worry in his eyes.

bucky pulls him in, hand on the back of his head and steve turns a nuzzle into a kiss, just a soft brush of their mouths. like the reaffirmation of a promise.

he let’s bucky hold him for a long while afterward.

@comiitatus​

[bornfromscarletcords]

EBON VERSE (Tentative Title)

THIS WORK IS UNFINISHED

Daniel Ranger was doing his best to live an ordinary and uneventful life, and despite his best efforts, he was met with minimal success. According to his neighbors, acquaintances, coworkers, fellow dog lovers, and the muggers who always felt the mysterious instinct not to follow him into dark alleys, he looked pretty normal. He was reasonably attractive, with dark hair, dark skin, and a muscular physique. His eyes were a little strange, as they were a very light brown, honey colored, and when it was dark or when the light shined on them they almost looked gold.  From the way he moved, many thought he might have been a soldier. From the way he could disappear almost without a trace, many thought he was a superhero...or an assassin. However, from they way he talked many people found their presumptions about him fading away. “He was so polite, so charming, someone like that couldn’t hurt a fly”, was more or less their general consensus. To say that Daniel was putting on an act wouldn’t be entirely fair as he honestly didn’t want to cause too much trouble, as trouble could attract attention from unsavory forces he’d rather avoid. With that said, it still might have been a stretch to say he honestly cared about how “so and so’s” aunt Bernice was doing in her retirement home across the country.

Daniel had experienced a lot of...stress in his former life, and so one day he decided that he would leave these hardships behind and start over. He said goodbye to his people and the place he had known as home in order to find another one. He kept a few trinkets to remember them by but most of those things were locked in a storage compartment, though he did carry a necklace that his matron had given to him. He rarely took it off but this might have been more unconscious as he seldom thought about it and when people brought it up he said as few words about it as possible.

It wasn’t exactly Daniel’s fault he was experiencing so little success in his endeavors. When he first arrived in this region he had done well in finding a modest apartment, a job at a local bookstore, and establishing himself as an average joe just looking to skate by. The problems arose when, despite his intentions, others wished to pry and poke at his masquerade. It was usually because they wanted something from him, or needed a new form of entertainment. He didn’t always like it but he had learned enough about bureaucracy to pleasantly misdirect the more susceptible busy-bodies. The stubborn and aware, however, he often had to scare away with talents he had hoped he wouldn’t have to use. Worse still, were the ones who wouldn’t be scared off. These folk had the audacity of asking him to lunch, or sharing heartfelt/life changing moments with him. How dare they form a true connection with him.

Anyway these devious schemers who he couldn’t seem to shake often, intentionally or unintentionally, involved him in tasks and events which painstakingly involved him using talents from his former existence. As much as he would have liked these tasks to have had a clean end, every time he thought they were over they’d just crawl their way back with some new variation to them, like the flu or brunch.  

One the main contributors to the absence of normality in his life was Sarina Miyamoto. She was a young woman of Japanese heritage, and Daniel had met her five years before the main events of this story when she was just graduating high school. This should have been a purely uneventful time of celebration for her, but it seemed the fate’s desired more peculiar circumstances. Sarina discovered that she was a part of an extra-dimensional clan of fox creatures, who wished her to rejoin them as one of their priestesses. Sarina had been looking for some excitement in her life, but that was a bit much, so one thing led to another and she ended up enlisting the help of Mr. Ranger. Why she had done this may have just been another one of the fate’s jests, but she explained to him that he seemed to be shrouded in mystery, like he had seen so many strange things that he could face just about anything. Daniel didn’t want to get involved, in fact this was just the type of thing he wanted to avoid the most, but Sarina reminded him too much of friends he’d left behind and the people he had once sworn to protect. The following events were about as far from normal as things could get. The fox clan tested Daniel and eventually found him worthy enough of guiding Sarina (well, their phrasing went something like “the Ookami will lead her”) until she decided to seek them out on her own. Daniel was not happy that they seemed to imply she was now his responsibility, but playing along was one of the few ways that event would end without a lot of dead bodies/aN inter-dimensional disaster.

Daniel found Sarina to be witty, generally skilled, and well humored. He didn’t like admitting it but he enjoyed her company even when she insisted that she was his sidekick (as she grew older exchanged this monicker for “super-partner”). She had once persuaded him to discuss a little about his past where he made the snafu of revealing that he “had been charged with serving and upholding justice” amongst his people. Well Sarina was thinking about what she should focus her studies on and this statement of his implied, to her, that she should pursue a career in law. So Daniel led her down the path of a being an upstanding citizen, you say, that’s not so terrible. Except for the fact that Sarina was mischievous by nature, and liked to convince Daniel into helping her study during his free time, that was when she wasn’t bending every rule or finding every loophole she could so that she could point out how flimsy the law actually was. Daniel didn’t mind her rebelliousness, he actually admired her tenacity and thoughtfulness, he just couldn’t help but feel as if the world might have been a little safer if he had just said he “used to cook pies”.  

Another contributor to his lack of a blissfully forgetful existence was Eydis. One night, Daniel had the misfortune of seeing a large group of men following a lone woman. Daniel didn’t like giving into assumptions, as they could so often be cliche, but something inside of him felt the need to make sure things didn’t get out of hand. He stuck to the shadows, a short distance off. When he saw them beginning to draw many unsavory items he moved to intervene but, as things turned out, his efforts were not needed. The woman screamed, but the men soon joined her. Blood sprayed and poured in a fevered dance of carnage. Limbs were torn, thrown, throats were opened, bellies spilt, and all in a matter of seconds. When the cause of the slaughter finally slowed down long enough for Daniel to get a good look at them, he was intrigued but not exactly pleased. She had long blonde hair braided down her back, on this night. Her skin was like moonlight, almost translucent. She was dressed like she ran a biker gang in her spare time: a brown leather jacket, a black shirt which had a flaming, dancing, skeleton on it, simple jeans, and cowboy...well, cowgirl boots on (without the spurs). At that moment her eyes were burning an angry bloody color but Daniel tried not to look into them. He would come to know that in her less frenzied state they were a soothing blue color. However on this night, he was more concerned with what she was going to do with the terrified, yet unharmed woman, and himself. The biker-lady stalked towards the woman like a lioness to her cub. She tenderly stroked her hair and lifted her chin so that they were staring each other in the eyes. After a moment the woman calmed down and began walking away. Then all that remained on that nigh abandoned street were Daniel, still in the shadows, the biker-lady, and many mutilated corpses.

“I know you’re here fenris, no need to stand on ceremony.” The biker-lady said gazing in his direction. Daniel stepped a little closer into view.

“You let the woman go? Why?” Daniel said.  

“Well it would hardly be a rescue if I had killed her.” The biker woman said, grinning slightly. She had a comely face, and as menacing as fangs could be, her flash of pale bone was not displeasing.

“You know her?” Daniel said.

“Yes, she is a,” She seemed to be struggling for the word, “a friend. Which gives me a reason to be here, but why were you going to put yourself at risk to help a stranger?”

“Old habit, and it would hardly have been a risk. A friend you say?” Daniel said.

“Ah, you doubt my kind could form such a connection?” The biker-lady said.

“I have my doubts about everything, so I’ll save my prejudices for another night. Will she remember what took place here?”

“Doubtful. Maybe she’ll think she had a bad dream or something. I’m not as good as some, but bending minds is not outside of my capabilities.” She said.

“What do you plan to do with the bodies?” he said.

“I called someone beforehand, they should be here soon.” She said.

“I’m not interrupting your midnight snack am I?” Daniel said. At that the biker-lady licked some blood off of her palm. In that moment another image superimposed itself over her, at least in Daniel’s mind. She looked like a nordic warrior, armed with a spear and covered in furs and metal. The image faded almost as soon as it came but it’s remnants would always stay with him.

“Nah, losers taste like mud.” She said kicking one of the bodies, it traveled a couple of feet.

“If that is all, then I should probably be on my way, before your ‘someone’ arrives.” Daniel said turning too leave.

“I would like a name fenris. I was almost indebted to you.”

“I’m not sure if it is healthy for us to mingle.” He said.

“In a polluted region breathing isn’t healthy, yet people do it anyway.” She said. Daniel shrugged and gave her his, in turn she gave him hers. She was Eydis.

This would not be the last night Daniel spent with Eydis, much to his chagrin. To be clear, she was usually only terrible to her enemies, yet it was very clear she was on unfamiliar ground when it came to getting along with Mr. Ranger. Around a week after their first meeting, Daniel realized that he was being followed, which caused him to take many out of the way routes before losing his pursuer and dashing home. This went on for a couple of evenings until he finally confronted the person who had been tailing him. In his mind it could have been anyone, but lo and behold, when he finally used his nose, he noticed a familiar scent. Daniel was pretty annoyed when he discovered what Eydis had been up to. Her reasoning had been, that she wanted to know why he lived such an unusual life. He told her that although it might seem boring it was very fulfilling in a subdued way. He told her to stop following him, and she left. A couple of nights later, she knocks on the door to his house. He had tried to be careful but apparently she had been more determined than she let on. He was going to be mad at her until she asked him for help. She explained that she had created the the vampire who had claim over the local territories (at least for as far as the vampires were concerned), which meant they were close or at least had a lot of history between them. However she refused to officially join his hold, preferring instead to live (well un-live) a life of relative freedom. It was the cause of some strife in their relationship, but she suspected the real reason he was upset about it was more political. He couldn’t or wouldn’t claim her as an asset if she wouldn’t yield to his rule, and as a powerful child of the night she was a very desirable prize. She had heard that a couple of vampires from another hold were in town looking for her. It was under the ruse of some all but ancient feud, but when the local ruler refused to assist her unless she joined his cause she came to the conclusion he must have played some part in the matter. Potentially to push her into his, metaphorical, grasp.

Daniel wanted to shut the door right then and there, but he came to the conclusion that somehow this nonsense would spill over to involve him one way or another and that he might as well get ahead of it. He offered his assistance. Eydis further explained that the rival vampires were beginning to target some of her allies unaffiliated with the hold or another equally substantial (known) force. Basically they were picking on those who couldn’t defend themselves. Daniel’s feathers were suitably ruffled at this and in the course of that week Eydis and he executed numerous vampires and prevented nearly as many “innocent” deaths. Near the end of their campaign however, Eydis was severely wounded. She needed blood, potent blood, and in their isolated locale there was little of that to go around. So, even though she warned him that exchanging blood might bond him to her (she might become his “master”) they did so anyway. With her life (un-life) saved they congratulated themselves on a job well done, and decided they wouldn’t be strangers to one another. A couple of nights later they found out that they might not have much choice in the matter. Eydis approached him stating that she had felt a type of fuzzy something leading to him, in her mind. She tried to “tug” on it to see if she really did have dominion over him but she felt like she had been moved instead. Then she asked him to give her an order, and although he was confused he told her to clean his book shelf. Her expression sort of glossed over for a second and she moved a couple of inches, but then she regained her composure. Apparently somehow the bond had gotten reversed, and he had become her “master”. Daniel was not comfortable with the idea of slavery, it was full of too much temptation and heartache. He expressed his concerns to her and she said “I’ll admit this is surprising, and though I’ve heard of something like this occurring it is very rare. Still I have a decent knowledge of these bonds, and I am a willful creature in my own right so as long as you don’t abuse it we should be fine.” What she didn’t say was that she would nonchalantly call him Master, or Milord as if it was only to be expected or that she would grow fond of the bond because it meant he wouldn’t just be able to up and leave without telling her. Something she suspected he might do if he got tired of her company. In all fairness, Daniel didn’t tell her that he had a likely suspect for what had caused the bonds reversal. It was that strange necklace which was almost always with him.

Then there was the dragon. A couple of wildfires had been flaring up in the surrounding forest, which was something of great concern for the local populace. It was Sarina who convinced Daniel to investigate. Her wording went something like “How can you pretend to be normal if everyone you want to fool is burnt to a crisp.” She then sweetened the deal by adding “And if it really is just a couple of natural phenomenon then I will buy you ice cream.” Daniel liked ice cream, it was so icy and creamy. So Daniel and his partner in crime solving went out to check the territory surrounding the fires. It was Sarina who had found the portal. She noticed a haziness in the air, when too much heat is present, except this haziness seemed to form a symbol. When Sarina reached out to touch it, Daniel reached to pull her back but it was too late. They both went tumbling through into the dragon’s den. When they saw the giant of a creature they felt the need to quote various films about what happens when people bring dinosaurs back to life. They would have acted on this need but they seemed to have lost the ability speak in the presence of those great jaws, wicked claws, gargantuan wings and serpent like tail. It was a beautiful creature, in a horrifying way. They understood why people might hunt, revere and flee from such a great beast. Their attention was so focused on the creature and its scarlet scales that when they took a look around they were even more surprised. The idea of a dragon’s den, in their minds implied a desolate and dangerous cavern littered with jewels. Well there was treasure but instead of being littered on the ground it adorned the walls and furniture or was tightly packed in chests. The desolate cave looked more like a hidden palace, albeit from medieval times, but it was still impressive and smacked of prestige and great wealth. The color scheme was various shades of red orange, violet and black, and after awhile Daniel couldn’t help but associate the images and colors with that of outer space. It was like walking in the void, stunning and haunting all at the same time. Then the dragon spoke.

“Intruders, snacks, champions? What are you and by what right do you enter my domain?” The dragon said. The voice sounded female, divine, and bestial all at the same time. Sarina and Daniel exchanged a glance.

“We’ll go with the option that doesn’t get us eaten or killed.” Sarina said.

“What my friend here is trying to say is that we mean you no harm nor any disrespect. We entered here by accident, and if you allow it we will leave without incident.” Daniel said.

“Hmmm, you don’t seem to be lying, but even if I wanted you to go I couldn’t allow you to.” The dragon said shifting around as if she were uncomfortable, it reminded Sarina of dogs circling their resting area for a better spot.

“What do you mean, this domain is under your command is it not?” Daniel said.

“Are you mocking me?” The dragon said a small jet of flame spewing from her mouth as smoke rose from her nostrils.

“Of course not, he’s just wants to understand the situation better, it’s not everyday we meet a creature as awesome and magnificent as yourself.” Sarina said. The dragon seemed pleased and preened herself.

“Well, I am fairly impressive aren’t I?” She said.

“You’re extraordinary.” Daniel said.

“To answer your question, this domain is an extension of my will, my mind, my heart and soul. It shares that trait with most of my powers. I have influence with it but I could no sooner control it than I could control my own emotions. I feel what I feel, and this domain does what it pleases for the most part.” The dragon said.

“So, it’s alive?” Daniel said.

“It has intentions, whether that makes it alive is a can of worms I don’t feel like opening. I’m more interested in why it showed its door to you.”

“Perhaps because it knew we were here to help. The fires are endangering the town and the wildlife. If we can do anything to stop them then we will.” Sarina said. Daniel gave her a look like he didn’t like her volunteering their services to large and dangerous magical creatures.

“As I said, my powers are not completely under my control. Many dragons prefer to fly powerfully and free so to speak, so we are not entirely well versed when it comes to restraining ourselves. I have a wound inside, it causes me great distress and I fear it has made my abilities more volatile than usual. I thought locking myself away here might limit the damage but it seems it did not work as well as I might have hoped.” The dragon said.

“I know the feeling. When I first came to this land I tried to suppress a part of myself; put it to sleep while I was awake. It seemed to work, but whenever I was asleep it would have its day. Finally after waking up, naked, in the woods, surrounded by half eaten woodland creatures I realized whatever I was doing wasn’t working.” Daniel said.

“What did you do?” The dragon said.   

“I had to face myself. Choosing another way of life is one thing but rejecting who you are inside is another. As soon as I realized that we were able to get along just fine again. It was hard, but so are a lot of things.”

“We?” The dragon said, then its amber eyes flashed brightly. “Oh, I see, I hadn’t noticed at first. You are varg.” She said.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but do you need us to find you a doctor or something?” Sarina said.

“No the wound is not physical, it is a wound of the heart and soul.”

“They can be the most painful and the most deadly.” Daniel said.

“How can we help?” Sarina said.

“I require a Champion, someone I can bestow my flame upon who will not be destroyed by it in turn. It must be a person of honor, great virtue, and or one of righteous authority. My flame would erase most others.

“Well, you heard the dragon, you’re up Sarina.” Daniel said patting her on the back.

“What, why me?” Sarina said.

“You’re interested in studying law right?” Daniel said.  

“Yeah eventually, but if I’m being honest, I’m a little too cynical of the whole institution to risk getting barbecued. You actually used to be a justice, or whatever, for a living you totally got this.” Sarina said, pushing him forward.

“You’re forgetting to mention the fact that I left that life behind and currently spend my time misleading humans into thinking I’m just an average book salesman.” Daniel said.

“Glad to see you’re both so eager.” The dragon said, the sarcasm all but permeating the air. “If you can’t decide, then I will, I choose the varg. Little vixen, you have much potential and even now greatness shines from you but at the moment he is the most powerful which I think means he is most likely to survive the process.” The dragon said.

“Well, straight from the dragon’s mouth. You heard her Daniel, your power dwarfs mine,” Sarina said.

“If I survive you’re buying me ice cream later. Actually scratch that, even if I don’t buy one for my ghost.” Daniel grumbled as he prowled over to the dragon.  

“Fair enough, that’s why I like you oh eminent one.” Sarina said.

“What do I need to do?” Daniel said.

“Over in that corner you’ll find a chair as well as…. well you’ll know it when you see it. It will take the shape of an instrument of some sort, but if you let your soul speak to it, it will fashion itself in the form of your choosing.”

“Interesting. Then what.”

“You come back here and play.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, the idea is that the music will serve as a bridge of sorts through which our souls can connect. My soul is fire so you will be enveloped in flame. If your soul is weak or...nevermind, just dig deep and play from your truth. The instrument works from your deeper emotions and intentions so even if you had no experience it would probably still sing. I guess the ritual is supposed to symbolize me relying on someone else. Dragons with power can become too proud to ask for help. Anyway by allowing another to feel me, I can finally feel my own truth. The wound will heal, or at least become healthier.” The Dragon said. Daniel went to get the tools at first he was holding a violin but when he sat down it turned into a guitar.

“I think it would help if I knew your name and you mine. Something we can connect to. I go by Daniel Ranger in these parts.” Daniel said after strumming a couple of notes on the guitar. It sounded like the instrument it was supposed to be but there were also other notes in there as if there were a whole ensemble hidden in the room. An orchestra of phantoms.

“Well I’ve had many names.” The dragon said.

“Anyone will do.” Daniel said.

“Some come from very dangerous languages.” The dragon said.

“That’s okay, you could even make one up, we wouldn’t know.” Sarina said as she hunkered down behind a large couch.

“Okay, I think I have one that will work, Seren Malak Mishal. Ren for short, if that works for you.” Ren said, and Daniel began to play. The decor, illustrations, and even the air  within the palace began to dance and hum. From behind cover Sarina whistled along as she wondered if the whole universe was moving to the tune. There was still the sound like many were playing through one, and yet it was clear that Daniel was steering the course; the song howled and loped in a way that was entirely his own. Then Ren began to sing along as well. It was a sound of ferocity, wildness, and miracles; of a fire that could create or end the world. The harmony made the two glow and Ren’s form seemed to shift into pure light and flame. Her blaze engulfed Daniel but his verse filled her. She tilted her head back as if baying to the full moon. Magic and radiant color flashed through the room, the music died down, and where a dragon once stood there was a woman. She had hair like molten rubies; it curled and flowed as it pleased down her back. At first she was naked, and then she looked somewhat demonic in armor of bones and black scales which seemed to be attached to her. Horns sprouted from her head as draconic wings beat once, twice, three times before she changed again, looking something like a great, and human, woman. She wore a long dress which could have made been worn by a queen or a mystic of countless mysteries.

“Your soul is a perplexing one Daniel Varg. In it is a great pride, almost like the dark ones who challenged heaven above, or perhaps that of the creature which cast them down. There is a hunger which tries to feast on the many sorrows which surround it but in these things it finds no sustenance. Hollow glories litter your thoughts, and with each reflection they fade even more, and yet your spirit keeps reaching, keeps clawing forward. You will hunt the place you truly belong until the end of days and maybe even beyond. And should peace and fate fail you, you would kill your way to the garden of your choosing, stalking forward on a road made of corpses. You carry the hopes of many, and in trying to balance them you tilt the axis of the world. Within your claws is the heart of truth. Your vision may be the first and last judge to all it visits. Look well and deeply.” Ren said.

“I’m just a book salesmen.” Daniel said, and at first Ren looked confused but then she laughed a great and beautiful sound which filled the room, as if made by something far larger.

Daniel was exhausted after playing and Sarina had to help him move. Ren was able to send them through the portal back to their land, which was a good sign. Before she did however she said they were always welcome, especially her Champion. That night Daniel had some of the best sleep he’d ever experienced, but he woke a little here or there and when he did he could have sworn his muzzle was buried in hair like a crimson sun, as clawed fingers clutched at welcoming flesh. Perhaps he’d been dreaming.

Now of course Daniel had met with other people and entertained other adventures throughout the duration of his self imposed exile, however the point where the main events of this story should unfurl has arrived. Don’t worry, his past and his other relationships will be explored as well. Enjoy the tantalizing occurrences which ceaselessly thwart his attempts at a simple life. They were cultivated from many branches of thought to garden this peculiar plot.