Private Tales Endirinn

[Skad]

There was no distance to be found from the relentless golden beast, who may have relinquished Marga's neck but came back just as swiftly with tooth and claw. The untrained nature of her people came to the fore once more and the bear's teeth pierced the flesh of her gut, giving way to a ragged howl. Arms tugged at piercing claws but only served to rip and tear her own flesh without freedom.

<"Marga! Better to drown, no?!">

From the safety of behind her beast, Skad taunted the raider.

It was a foul machination moulded into flesh from the depths of Spotta's chaos. Why was the Nordenfiir so willing to fight for such a barbarous wretch? Why would she be granted life in the wake of her callous dagger? Her blood would soon join that of her brothers and sisters but while Heidur beckoned for her, Kin-Slayer had stolen that chance for so many.

Marga allowed herself to slacken, inviting the Nordenfiir to finally end this cursed voyage.

 

[Brenna]

If Brenna had had the luxury of sparing a life without it potentially costing her own or Skad's, she might have let the Nordenwiir live to lick her wounds, but in this pit there was no choice for mercy. The bear ripped its teeth clean of the creatures exposed stomach and then clamped her jaws down on the limp beasts neck and shook until there was a sickening crack. With a snarl she let the body drop from her jaws and then spat blood into the snow.

Marga had taken her fair pound of flesh with her. Brenna wasn't sure what was her blood and what was her opponents. She could feel burning in her stomachs and her front legs that indicated deep cuts but the pain faded into the symphony of pain she had been feeling since the moment she awoke. Her beady eyes turned towards the others in the ring. Most had stayed clear of the bear and wolf fighting and had dispatched one another with brutal rage. Only two others stood panting and bleeding and Brenna realised, queasily, that this round was over.

"It's over," she muttered and allowed herself to slump into the snow.

 

[Skad]

Skad found it somewhat tragic that she hadn't witnessed the swift bout, imagining that the sight of the two brawling beasts to be quite the spectacle.

All she could do was listen to the primal symphony that had erupted in the void, surprising herself when she could separate Brenna's fearsome timbre from Marga's feral retort. A pained howl had let her know that her friend was winning, allowing her to loosen a taunt like some bloodied jester on the sidelines.

Kin-Slayer realised in that moment, that she had never seen Brenna fight. Not against the villagers, the spiders nor against their opponents here. Had she the opportunity to witness the Nordenfiir in action then perhaps she could have gotten to know her soul better, judging her as only those accustomed to battle could. If they were to fight, then Skad was not sure what manner of beast would be upon her.

When it was over, Skad gingerly rounded the voice of her companion, the makeshift rag already struggling to contain the heavy bleeding from her head. Her foot accidentally trodding upon the mange-ridden corpse of her kin.

"Not problem for Brenna," she complimented, her lone blind eye suggesting a lingering concussion, "you do good."

However, she was aware that there was yet more to come.

"Are you hurt?"

Usually, when it came to the wounded Skad was less than forthcoming in her aid. You could either carry on or you were destined to find your throat at the end of a blade. Dead weight. Marga had evidently learned that much of their squad had met such a fate. Brenna, however, would not.

 

[Brenna]

"No worse than you," Brenna cast her eyes towards Skad's head and the oozing wound. The fae warriors who had been their guards had returned to the arena with sharp looking spears made of a black metal that seemed to suck in the light. They warily cajoled the others back into the doorways from which they had come from no doubt to return to their cells. Two of the tall men approached the bear and her warrior with sneers. Brenna snarled and the sneers seemed to vanish.

"Change back," one said in a guttural tone, clearly not used to speaking the Common Tongue. He poked the spear towards them.

"She needs medicine," Brenna countered and the fae curled his lips as he looked to Skad. "I'll change if you take her to your healers and they heal everything."

The two looked at each other warily before finally the fae male nodded and motioned with his stick. With a deep breath Brenna shut her eyes and let the transformation begin. The roar of a bear in agony turned into the screams of pain of a girl as she collapsed back into the snow, body bleeding from the multitude of deep gores in her skin.

"Get up," the fae said and roughly grabbed a hold of Skad's arm. "You go healers."

 

[Skad]

Brenna's negotiation with the Fae left Skad somewhere between impressed and confused. Impressed that even as a prisoner, the Nordenfiir could make such demands of her captors yet confused by the fact that she would waste such a position by ensuring Kin-Slayer's health and not her own.

The Nordwiir would not interject; a sliver of puzzlement flashed upon crimson-bathed features.

Everything?

Before there was time to question if her companion was a subtle genius, her train of thought was interrupted by agonised screams that suggested that Brenna would be going into the next round at a disadvantage. It was peculiar that such a thought bothered Kin-Slayer.

She grunted as her arm was grabbed, having enough wit not to resist a trip to the healers but enough brain damage to talk.

"You not heal her?" Skad quizzed with her own lacklustre common tongue, "Where fun in fighting if she is broken?"

 

[Brenna]

The fae merely grunted at Skad's question as he hurled her to her feet and began to march her towards one of the doors, a thin black fang had materialised on his thumb.

Brenna willed herself to get up from the snow as the remaining fae guard stared down at her with hard eyes. She wanted to walk out of here with her head held high for having survived but she couldn't. Every part trembled with pain. In the end the fae realised poking and threatening her wouldn't work and so, not wanting to kill one of his Masters toy, he cursed and scooped her up into his arms instead.

The healers quarters were a serene space. The other two contestants were already there being stitched up; it seemed as though the orchestrator of the cruel little game didn't intend for any of them to die where they would not entertain his friends. Brenna's quick thinking had meant however that Skad was not just going to be stitched up ready for the next fight.

The fae dragging her along said a few terse words to one of the healers who looked at Skad in surprise then irritation. Clearly he did not enjoy being dragged into a deal. In the end she obliged and had Skad laid out on a bed.

"Drink," she commanded, forcing a vile concoction, that smelt surprisingly similar to the mushrooms Brenna had been cooking, down the Nordenwiirs throat before turning her attention to the head wound.

 

[Skad]

It had become increasingly common that Skad was left in the dark, holding little to no clue of what was happening around her in what should have been extremely distressing circumstances. Thankfully, a combination of disregard for living and a traumatic head injury had left her surprisingly cavalier.

<"Talkative bastard, aren't you?"> Kin-Slayer muttered as she was jostled along, her body beginning to feel the bite of the cold. Losing a few toes would really cap off the disaster that had been this excursion south.

Eventually and presumably, she was taken to a healer or perhaps for a nap judging by the bed. It was confirmed to be the former as an unknown liquid was thrust upon her, assaulting her mouth with a taste reminiscent of fossilised kaltku shit. Unpleasant, but not the worst thing she had ever consumed.

There was a grunt as the healer moved on to patch up the hideous skull fracture that her impromptu wrap had done absolutely nothing to help with. Skad had become very aware that she was not-at-all accustomed to being manhandled so freely by others, likely made more evident by the fact that she couldn't see what was coming. The suddenness of every unexpected sensation was so-

A tingle.

It was subtle at first, masked by the sharp sting of stitches upon the side of her head but then it began to grow, becoming a warm buzz behind her eye. Still, it intensified, warmth turning to heat, which gave way to a prickling burn as if hungering flames had been unleashed inside of her head. Eventually, chipped teeth were grit, mottled fists were clenched and taut tendons protruded from flesh as Skad found herself having to endure what felt like the incineration of her brain.

<"RefsiNGAR, TAKE ME!"> She cried out through her teeth, struggling to keep still for the no-doubt beleaguered healer, "FUCK!"

 

[Brenna]

Two fae rushed to pin Skad down as she snarled and swore leaving Brenna mercifully in peace. They had come along way, her and the false god worshipper, but she still chuckled to herself at seeing her thrash as the medicine took affect. Had she thought it would be painless getting back her sight? Maybe it was a good thing she hadn't given it to her in the cave, she might have ended up with a knife in her gut.

"I thought Nordenwiir feasted on pain," she called lightly to her friend. The fae who was tending to her own injuries frowned at her as though unsure whether her patient too might squeal but Brenna took the healers needle with a quiet sigh and, closing her eyes, allowed herself to enjoy a brief moment of peace. They were alive and Skad would have her sight back. There was a deep sense of satisfaction she had achieved not one but two aims.

The only one that remained was gaining their freedom.

 

[Skad]

What Skad hadn't expected while being held still by several pairs of hands as she surged like a fevered soul on their Óttagöngu was to be pain shamed by unabashedly wholesome Brenna. Had she not been distracted by the conflagration of her central nervous system, then it was certain that a blunt and callous remark would have been served and volleyed in return.

However, what left her gnashing maw was decidedly...feral.

"SHOVE...PAINNN...UP CUNT, BRENNA!"

The serenity of the healer's quarters had well and truly been shat upon by the outbursts of Kin-Slayer, who cared not if the entire room was disturbed.

Still, the burning intensified, akin to a searing poker being lanced through the back of her eye. The extra help kept her still as unintelligible Wiir threats gave way to a brutal scream as the pain reached its apex. Physical pain was tangible, this, this was dark fucking magic!

Head buzzing.

White hot.

Blinding light.

What a terrible death!

Then, in a single breath, it stopped. Better yet, for everybody else in the room, Skad's hysterics finally came to a stop. The Nordwiir's body relaxed, and the only sound that came from her was an ebbing groan that may have followed a deathly hangover.

Why was everything so fucking bright? Kin-Slayer's eye squinted before closing, her mind not processing that her sight had seemingly been restored following the ordeal.

 

[Brenna]

With her eyes closed Brenna was of course blissfully unaware of any and all insults being hurled in her direction. It felt as though she floated outside of her body such was her own pain as it mingled with the special herbs the healer told her to chew on. This was peace. She was reminded of a time in the summer months when the lake thawed and was warm enough to swim in, when she had laid out in the middle and simply existed without any need or desire to be more than who she was.

A small yawn escaped her and then her head lolled to the side as she passed peacefully into the world of Dreams.

 

[Skad]

After a few moments of recollecting her composure and laying there with her eye shut, Skad realised that the darkness of her world was no longer that of the void she had become so accustomed to, filtered through the back of her eyelid it was a gentle dark, one of sleep and of dreams.

Her sight had returned.

The Nordwiir remained still, her eye still shut as the healer was finally given the opportunity to somehow patch up the split in her skull in peace.

Kin-Slayer tried to consider the blessing, a hint of good fortune after so much misery but found the subject bitter. Once, in a time not so far removed from now, she believed that any great action beyond one's own was that of the Dark Gods. Blessings and curses; two sides of the same coin. Her only agency was found in the blade of her skinning dagger, dedicated to filling Hauradur's chalice in advocacy of his boons.

She would not thank him for this blessing, nor any of the others.

Slowly, her eye opened but only a creak as any amount of light was still too bright to bear for the time being. There was the shape, the shadow of the healer as they finished up whatever patch job they had done on her head. Even in knowing that the blur was one of their captors, she felt the weight of helplessness lift, allowing the woman to lay with a sense of peace for a few moments more.

As the minutes passed, Skad slowly allowed her eye to open bit by bit, letting the organ adjust to function once more. Her alien surroundings became more evident as this happened, the unfamiliarity unable to unsettle a grateful mind.

No, this was not the work of the Dark Gods.

Skad sat up, looking over to search for her sight's true saviour. She had a vague recollection from their first encounter, albeit one that merged with shadow and hallucination. Her lone emerald settled upon a peacefully slumbering blonde and the Nordwiir's heart knew that she was Brenna.

She hadn't expected her to be so striking.

Opting not to sleep, Skad simply sat and stared at the sleeping Nordenfiir, her mind now turning to the thought of what was to come next and what her own plan would be now that her sight had returned.

 

[Brenna]

Once the healers were content their charges would not die from their wounds they were rudely shaken from sleep or introspection and marched next to the sweat house. Brenna knew better than to grumble but the dark smudges under her eyes said it would have been best to let her sleep longer. Still, the thought of being clean was just as appealing as sleep and so she shuffled along beside Skad. Their guards did not take too kindly to speaking and Skad had learnt none of the hand talk Bre usually used to communicate, so instead she kept her silence until they reached their destination.

"You have an hour," the fae who had struck the deal with Brenna said; the fang had vanished from his hand now the transaction had been completed. He shut the door to the sweat room behind them leaving the four finalists alone together.

"Did it work?" Brenna asked tentatively of Skad now she had a chance. With her vision returned, she would see what she hadn't for the last week; that she signed each word as she spoke out of instinct. The Nordenfiir motioned to Skad's eye in case she didn't understand what she referred to.

 

[Skad]

In the face of what was to come, Skad primarily pondered upon her Dark Gods.

It was not a case that the woman suddenly saw them as false projections of savage people twisted by envy and paranoia. No, in fact, she very much still believed in them, not knowing how else to explain the blessings that their kind was granted, nor all the moments experienced in which unyielding faith had granted the impossible.

Rather, it was a thought that questioned her own place amongst their machinations, or rather, lack of.

From the moment Kin-Slayer and her ill-fated Hæfurkappi left the shores of home it had seemed as if the great ominous shadow of doom's kaldurhrafn had loomed over them.

The storm, the drowned, the wounded, the slain, the dissent, the slaughtered, the poison, the blindness.

It was easier to seek reason in their pantheon. Ah, it was Uratash that dashed them against the rocks. Hauradur and Likami that demanded the blood and flesh of the faithless. Spotta guiding the hand that tipped the poison into her drink. Hrekkur ensuring that salvation was to be found in a deaf Nordenfiir. There was nothing that could have been done; it was all in the hands of the Dark Gods!

But what of a better crew and a hardier boat? What of mercy for the wounded and understanding for those plagued by doubt instead of a hungering blade? What of dialogue with villagers instead of death?

Curse?

Or consequence?

Before her consideration could continue, they were forced onwards into a new unknown and Skad's thoughts turned to the present, which was naturally as foreign and confusing as ever, but it was nice to not be dragged everywhere in the dark. Surprising really, how much morale such a small degree of agency could offer.

She observed, for the first time, Brenna speaking. Her eye was drawn in by the peculiar hand movements of her compassionate companion, although remaining expressionless as she stared.

"Yes," Skad confirmed with a soft nod, her lack of outward jubilation perhaps seeming ungrateful which she was swift to remedy, "thank you, Brenna."

Realising that they were not alone and that two potential enemies shared their room, Kin-Slayer sidled closer to the Nordenfiir, gesturing at her hands with her own grizzled instruments of death. Actually seeing Brenna made her existence more tangible as a person, and a person who she owed a great deal more respect for in gratitude.

"You do talking with hands, yes?" Skad mouthed silently at the other woman, denying the others a chance to listen to one-half of their conversation. It offered a measure of privacy, but also a chance to stir fear and paranoia in their hearts.

"When we winning, you showing me how to hand talk."

 

[Brenna]

Brenna couldn't quite put her finger on what, but something was different about Skad. Naturally she believed it to be something to do with the rerunning of her sight and not the deeper crisis of faith her Northern cousin was going through. Her head listed to the side curiously, contemplating asking her outright, before her attention followed where Skad was looking. Right. Not alone.

Still, the request to learn her language filled her with an unexpected joy.

"Of course," she said aloud and with her hands, unaware Skad now just mouthed the words. "But first, a bath," she scrunched her nose up. "I smell like a Nordenwiirs---" she broke off when she suddenly realised the colloquialism might not be right in present company. A blush stained her cheeks. "I stink," she corrected lamely and headed for one of the three pools.

 

[Skad]

Skad's head tilted as Brenna's sentence trailed off into the unknown. She had never pondered before what opinion their southern cousins held about them. Apparently, it was a pungent opinion.

Not that it was terribly untrue.

A bath was a rare thing in Nordwiir culture, reserved for certain festivals of the flesh. So this notion of captive fighters getting the opportunity to wash was yet another notch in the belt of strange customs.

At least Kin-Slayer was already naked.

Skad stalked after the embarrassed Brenna, rounding the woman so that she could read lips, hands moving to grab the Nordenfiir by the shoulders as if she were going to give an encouraging pep talk.

"Stink like wet dog," she mouthed with her perfectly serious expression, "lucky that you are very beauty."

And without a further word, Skad turned her back to Brenna and slipped into one of the pools.

 

[Brenna]

Wet dog? Brenna gave her a bemused look; she wasn't sure what to think of being compared to a dog, but further contemplation on that particular insult was quickly dashed by the compliment - what had brought that on? Because she had killed Marga? Then it dawned on her; Skad had never seen her.

There was a weird sensation in her stomach as she undressed and climbed into the pool with her peoples natural enemy. The other two had taken to other pools affording them some privacy and so Brenna did not hide the aches and pain she felt on almost every inch of her skin. Her bones were no longer broken but the echo of that feeling remained, and then there was the exhaustion caused by the healing too. She grimaced as the water stung her freshly knitted skin but let out a sigh was the heat unwound her muscles.

"The fae don't like dirt," she explained as if guessing Skad's confusion. "It is said they even wash bodies before eating them, like you clean vegetables."

 

[Skad]

The warmth of the pool offered a decadent sense of physical relief to well-worn muscles. It was a far cry from the frigid communal waters and the orgy of flesh that took place on the dawn of the Holdæði. This felt like the once-a-month luxury that only a village chief knew.

Her lone emerald lingered upon Brenna as she undressed, instinctually roving upon the woman's freshly-stitched wounds, the nature of a vicious opportunist hard to shake. Skad's own massacre of dried blood loosened from flesh and already beginning to taint the water with her vitae. No doubt they would be leaving behind a grim soup by the time the pair were finished.

Brenna's prediction of Nordwiir confusion was indeed correct, but her helpful commentary only left Skad further from clarity. "You...clean vegetables?" Skad spoke slowly, an eyebrow raised at the notion of such a strange ritual before plunging her crimson-encrusted face into the water.

She emerged a moment later, rubbing heavily scarred hands over her face to clear the grime and viscera.

"That meaning they eating who lose here?" Skad's asked with a furrowed brow, her face brought to movement by her own putrid thought, "They eating Marga?"

 

[Brenna]

"You don't clean vegetables?" Brenna glanced in her direction but Skad had already submerged herself and so she merely shook her head. Of all the revelations of the Nordenwiir them not washing their vegetables should have been the least surprising. At least she was looking in her direction when she emerged and asked her next question.

Brenna's gaze softened with sympathy.

"Most likely," the fae of the Night Court had no qualms about eating mortals. She had once heard they had spit roasted a whole village one by one. The thought made her empty stomach heave. "I'm sorry- for killing your friend."

 

[Skad]

Skad held no real opposition to the consumption of sentient flesh; in her culture, there were those who actively practised cannibalism in Likami, the Goddess of Flesh's name. It wasn't her own preference, but in dire enough circumstances, meat was meat.

She decidedly spared Brenna from such insight.

The Nordenfiir's apology brought a flash of chipped teeth, as Skad granted a measure of mirth to cross her face. There was little cause to rigidly enforce a stoic guise with her companion as Kin-Slayer doubted that the other woman had machinations to seek emotional weakness to gain an advantage.

"Not having friends," Skad stated, gingerly pressing upon the side of her head to assess the newest scar upon her tattered tapestry, "if not for you, would be slow and pain death for me. Big revenge there."

 

[Brenna]

Well, she supposed Magda hadn't looked particularly happy to see Skad, though she hadn't understood a word the woman had been screaming. Still, killing was not something Brenna enjoyed doing and the death sat uncomfortably on her shoulders. Her father had always said a warrior could not dwell on it lest they lay down and never wake up again.

It was better to focus on survival.

"Our best chances of both surviving is each killing one of those," she didn't need to nod to specify who she meant. "But they may throw other things our way first."

 

[Skad]

Skad opened her mouth to suggest that they just kill the other two competitors right there in the sweat room but had a sense that such an idea would meet Brenna's swift disapproval.

"We will. I not doing the worry," the woman stated, her confidence emboldened by the return of her vision. In truth, Kin-Slayer wasn't entirely convinced of her own survival. Did Haraudur's blessing still touch her blood? If it didn't, as she suspected, then it rendered her just as mortal as everybody else. This was a problem because she fought as if she was an unkillable juggernaut, collecting wounds like trophies.

She would likely find out the hard way.

"What other things?" Skad chose to mouth, clueless in this foreign realm where they washed vegetables and made magical agreements, "I am not doing good at other things."

 

[Brenna]

"Well, they're not going to ask you to bake a cake, are they?" Brenna rolled her eyes but a smile tugged at her lips for the mental image of Skad dressed in a pink apron making cupcakes was one that made her wish to laugh. Perhaps one day she would convince the Nordenwiir to do just that. The trivial thought surprised her; did she really imagine Skad in her future? She would want to go home, surely, and Brenna knew enough of the North and herself to know the two would not fit. Besides, she had family...

The smile faded. Yes, once they were free this would be the end of their adventure.

"They might make us fight fae. Kelpies, redcaps, pucas..." she trailed off realising naming these beasts would probably do little good for Skad. "The deadly things fae make fight each other when mortals aren't around to entertain them."

 

[Skad]

Skad's eyes narrowed, Brenna's sarcasm and strange words evading her somewhat. The notion of baking a cake cementing itself as a mysterious fae ritual within the woman's mind. Was it dangerous?

Now fighting...

Fighting was acceptable, even if the list of potential enemies sounded like a magical unknown bestiary. If it was living, then it could die. If it was dead, then it could die again. In her contemplation, Kin-Slayer had realised the folly of violence as the only solution but this case was an exception to that thought.

"I see now," Skad replied quietly, rubbing the loosened grime and blood from her own neck before moving down to the shoulders, "fighting is not problem."

Spitting in the face of personal space, the Nordwiir took a weary glance over her shoulders before leaning in uncomfortably close to Brenna, features darkened as if a great omen had descended upon them both. What came next was mouthed, obscured from ears that might have listened.

"What is a cake?"

 

[Brenna]

Brenna was not modest; the Nordenfiir had sweat tents and saunas like most civilised people in the Tundra. However, there was being confident in ones skin when bathing and then there was having a woman - also naked - nearly on top of you. She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn even whilst she tried not to keel over from laughing so hard at Skad's sudden and unexpected question.

The woman was afraid of cake?!

"Y-you eat it," she managed to gasp out and thumped herself on the chest when she swallowed an mouthful of bathwater. Grimacing she tried not to think about the grim she had also swallowed. "You give it to children for birthdays."

 

[Skad]

Apparently, this cake was a great source of amusement for the Nordenfiir as mirth erupted from the woman in a manner that caused her to swallow their bathwater. Even to her, that seemed somewhat unhygienic.

Skad stared with an eyebrow raised, a long exhale leaving her nose as the truth of cake was revealed to be benign foodstuffs. They may have been ancestral cousins, bearing physical similarities but in truth, their cultures had long since diverged down separate paths.

"When I had ten years," she began, staring at Brenna's flushed face with a startling degree of seriousness, not moving an inch from the Nordenfiir's personal space, "I got bag of kaldabatur teeth."