My magic danced over the gleaming iron and tinned bronze of the winged helm I'd been working on, effortlessly embossing and carving the metal so that images of ravens, wolves, and of past battles decorated the surface. The bronze wings which adorned either side of the helmet were subtle, moulded to the shape of the armour rather than protruding in a way that might catch weapon blows it should deflect. The mask had only one eye-opening. Unusual, yes, but also designed with my husband in mind. Even centuries from now, when archaeologists dug the piece from some forgotten stretch of ground, they would still know who it had belonged to.
“It's beautiful,” Leof murmured as he watched me work. “And you say you aren't an artist... What you make from iron rivals the work of the dwarves of Svartálfheimr, and almost rivals the intricacy with which you weave fate.”
I chuckled as I finished moulding the last bronze section onto the brow, and placed the helmet onto of the dense-woven chainmail shirt which I'd already completed, along with protective charms bound into the mass of iron links.
“What I do with magic doesn't compare to what you do with a brush, or charcoal, or a lyre, or a violin, my husband. But I try my best.”
The armour was the last of many pieces we'd created over the preceding days, since our last meeting with our allied commanders. We had made weapons, and shields, armour, and padded gambeson jackets to go underneath the mail shirts. I had replicated so much iron, bronze, leather, wood, and wool, that it was a wonder I couldn't supply an army in my sleep. I'd mended swords and created new ones. I'd crafted spears and bows, and more arrows than I could count, building on the supply of weapons Ve had already retrieved from Milbank's stores.
But perhaps my finest work lay next to my husband’s armour...
The wolf mask helmet was not as intricately decorated as Leof's, although the moulded lupine face was fierce and snarling, with runes carved into its brow and cheeks, and a bronze bandit mask around the eyes. It lay on top of its own chainmail shirt, but where the beauty if Woden's armour came from the decoration, the beauty of Fenrir's came from the spell I'd cast as I charmed the pieces into existence. It had been created for a werewolf chief, and it would change with him. The mail would shift, becoming a covering that could protect Ábrođen's sides and chest, even as he fought in his lupine form. The helmet, designed for his human form, would recede as he morphed, baring his snout and canine teeth, his main weapon, while still protecting the top of his head, brow, cheeks, and the back of his neck. It was a masterpiece, even if I did say so myself.
I had spent days perfecting armour for Fenn's pack, and for the southern pack's guards, who were beginning to join us. I'd worked alongside Cafgár and Helrúna, whoever was available at the time, finding out how best to make the armour shift, to allow a full range of movement, then perfecting the density of the mail so it would protect them without weighing them down too much. Ábrođen's armour, made despite his previous refusal, was a culmination of everything I'd learned by studying the wolves, and I knew, if we all survived, it would become a pack heirloom.
“You've done all you can to protect everyone,” Leof assured me, as he tugged me away from my work and onto his lap. “Tomorrow, our forces will gather and we'll need to transport them all to Ésageard. You should rest now, gather your strength. You've used so much magic already...”
Leaning in, I pressed a tender kiss to his lips, my fingers brushing his cheek as I kept him close. “I know. I'm finished now. Yours was the last, because I wanted it to be perfect.”
“It is perfect,” he assured me. “You are perfect.”
I laughed at that claim, shaking my head. “No, but I'm pleased you think so.”
Sitting with him, in the safety of the Sire's apartment, should have eased my nervous energy, but even as he stroked up and down my back, trying to soothe the tension from me, I still shifted, restless. I felt ready for the fight that was long overdue, while feeling anxious as well, fearing that the outcome might not go my way. I longed to see just one path at our feet - a path to victory - but while the fork's prongs had swung in our favour, a couple still went the other way.
“I can't worry about this anymore. There's nothing else I can do, because this war will be won or lost based on decisions made in the heat of battle. And I hate that lack of control,” I grumbled, and that final truth seemed just as terrifying as the possibility of defeat. How would I ever stop taking responsibility for the future if I couldn't bear to give up control?
“Why don't we do something, then?” Leof asked, while continuing to stroke my back. “Something to distract you without overdoing you use of magic.”
“We could take the bikes out,” I offered. It had been a while since we just rode for the thrill of riding. “You can put a ward around us, like you did when Ábrođen and I went for our run. No one will attack us tonight; Tiw can't see us through a ward, and Haltwhistle, Berith, and Loki are preoccupied with their own forces, because even they know a battle has to happen sooner or later.”
Smiling, my husband nodded, then urged me off his knee. “I like that idea. But do we tell Ve, or do we sneak out and avoid another of his tirades over our recklessness?”
Sneaking out seemed like the simplest and most amusing plan, but I decided my brother-in-law didn't deserve such cruelty, considering how much work he'd put into preparing our sentries, and Fenn's guards, and the troops the incubi council had mustered and granted him access too.
“We better tell him. A few moments of pain while he complains will still be worth it. Anyway, he'll grumble less if we tell him beforehand than if we tell him after the fact,” I assessed, considering just how furiously Ve would rant at us if we returned from an unscheduled jaunt.
Leof sighed, but admitted, “You're probably right. Come on then, wife. I do like seeing you in leather.”
I rolled my eyes as I headed for our bedroom to change out of the joggers and vest top I'd been working in, and into something that would offer more substantial protection to my limbs, should I come off my bike somehow.
“Pervert,” I called back over my shoulder.
He just laughed, not at all offended. “No, just enamoured with you. And it's not like you don't like me in leather too.”
That much was true. He looked just as good in leather while in his current body as he had done as Conn, and once we'd both re-dressed, I couldn't deny his appeal. His newest bike jacket was fitted, hugging his broad shoulders and chest, and tapering at his waist. The leather trousers were shapely, and while reinforcement added some bulk in places, I couldn't help but stare at his ass as he grabbed his helmet from the wardrobe.
“Alright, I admit it, you're booty-ful,” I appraised with a laugh, earning an arched brow in response.
When Leof stalked towards me, his gait predatory, a shiver of anticipation washed through me. Then, when his hands slid around my waist, to grip my own rear and pull me tight against his front, I couldn't help but bite my lip, exhaling a slight moan, even before he kissed across my jaw to my ear.
“And you are beautiful,” he murmured. “And you’re mine.”
“Forever,” I breathed, tipping my head so he could kiss down my neck, nipping at my skin, and I realised how much I missed being bitten. “And when we get back, I'm having my way with you.”
I felt him smile against my throat, impatience and desire coursing through him as he breathed, “Who says I intend to wait that long? It's a while since I last saw you in the moonlight, mínu Fríge.”
Another soft moan escaped me as I suggested, “Maybe we should just go. Save time by bypassing Ve.”
Leof laughed at that, then took my hand, casting a temporary ward around us before leading me back out of our bedroom and towards the door of the apartment. “My brother might lend us more than leather if we tell him what we're up too...”
“Don't!” I complained. “It's bad enough that I know what he and Syn get up to, without you reminding me.”
He grinned, more mischief in his expression than I felt comfortable with, and I shook my head at him. “Incorrigible man.”
We headed downstairs side by side, greeting the members of our cohort we passed and trying to seem relaxed, unconcerned by what was to come. I nodded to Ben as he crossed the entrance hall, but he didn't notice as he shuffled by, deep in thought, with a frown creasing his brow. His grief and confusion assailed me, but I tried not to worry over what might become of him, because his fate wasn't in my hands. It had been, on the night I saved him from Viola, but bereavement was a far crueller enemy to face than any scorned bunny.
“Tanya and her followers will be amongst Tiw's army,” I noted, remembering not all of the bunnies had come to Viola's sticky end, nor reformed like Katie. “It's unfortunate that we'll face some of our own...”
“They made their choice, and they aren't our own now. Our people won't see them as ex-cohort, but only as the opponents they are; just like every other we face across the battlefield,” he reassured me, then smiled and winked. “But stop thinking about it, love. For this one night, let’s just be us, husband and wife, enjoying some time together.”
How could I refuse such an offer?
The door of the Security Office sat ajar as we passed it, revealing a deserted room beyond. From the sound of weapons hitting weapons coming from the dojo, I guessed Ve had rearranged the furniture once more, to put our sentries through their paces. Leof and I glanced at each other, still uncertain whether to tell our head guard and Second of our intentions.
In the end, Leof popped his head through the door, yelled “We're going for a ride. Be back soon!” Before ducking back into the passage and whispering, “Quick, run!” to me.
We dashed to the end of the corridor together, and I yanked open the steel fire escape door, bursting into the garage. We were both giggling like idiots as we reached our bikes, climbing astride the machines and sending their engines rumbling to life. By the time Ve burst through the door after us, we were already at the exit ramp, and I could hear him yelling expletives as we disappeared up it. He might kill us himself when we returned, but I'd happily take that risk.
“We're going to be in so much trouble,” Leof laughed through the intercom in our helmets.
“It's a good thing we're in charge, really,” I replied, laughing too.
We’d made no plans on where to go, so I picked a road and decided to see where the it took us. North was as good a direction as any, and I intended to make the most my last certain night of freedom. Tomorrow, I would be too busy to feel free, and the day after... I'd have to wait and see.
Neither of us needed to talk as we enjoyed the open road disappearing under our wheels. Our thoughts and emotions said everything we needed to say, and we were both content to be with each other, with the world rushing past us, so fast it seemed to blur. It was late enough that the roads were all but empty, and we might as well have been in our own world, away from all others, outside of time. Even when the city became towns, and the towns became fields and small industrial villages, we kept going. When the suburban became the rural, we put miles of country road behind us, running away from duty and responsibility, because we would soon have to don those mantles again, for what might be the final time.
For a few hours we did nothing but ride, almost to the Scottish border, and some of my anxiety and restlessness finally seeped away. I don't know why I turned towards the tiny hamlet of Yeavering, or why I parked my bike and clambered off. Maybe I wanted to stretch my legs, or maybe my memories of all that had been in the past were a siren song I couldn't resist. Either way, I left my helmet on the seat of my bike and turned towards the fields and the hill where so much Northumbrian history had played out.
Yeavering Bell wasn't the most impressive hill in the area, and yet it had once been the location of a large Iron Age hillfort, a stronghold of the Votadini, and perhaps a cultural centre for their tribe. After that, an Anglo-Saxon settlement had been built on the hill's ‘whaleback’, providing some of the most unique archaeological remains in Britain. It had been the seat of Northumbrian kings and a place of worship, and I could remember both the royal hall and the temple that made up part of Ad Gefrin.
We had visited once, as humans, during one of our pilgrimages to explore the world outside Hexham. We'd walked all over Northumbria, spending months at a time travelling from place to place before returning home. Ad Gefrin had been one stop on our way to the other royal seat, at Bebbanburgh, on the coast. Such adventures had given me the freedom to be a little wild; to be more than my upbringing would’ve allowed if Cyneweard hadn't seen something in me that he recognised, and me in him.
“Feeling nostalgic, Dunthryth?” Leof asked as he followed me across the fields, away from the hamlet and towards the hill.
“Perhaps, Cyneweard,” I responded with a smile. “Isn't this what we've always done? We shoulder responsibility for so many people that sometimes it’s nice to escape. We wandered Northumbria to recover battle, and war, and our obligation to defend those weaker than us, just as we soared over Ésageard as an eagle and falcon, to have some respite from politics and fate. Our bikes are our wings, or the staffs which once helped us navigate untrodden paths.”
“Perhaps you should’ve come to Middangeard in my stead, to tell our legends,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to my hair. “You’re a poet.”
“Only one of many that the lord of inspiration has provided a muse for, mín Leof.”
He chuckled again, then meshed his still leather-clad fingers with mine, leading the way to the field where a king’s residence once stood.
It seemed so barren now, with my memories intact. The windswept grass and moss had always been there, providing sustenance for the wild goats that grazed the hillside, but once upon a time, the green had been broken up by well-worn tracks, carved into the landscape by feet, and horses, and the wheels of carts. Royal guards had patrolled the settlement, stern faced, yet tipping their heads in respect when they recognised Cyneweard. Priests had come and gone from the temple, wrapped in their course robes, preaching their Christian faith in a hall that had once seen sacrifices of goats, oxen, and grain to the gods of old, to us. It had been busy, once, rather than silent and abandoned.
The temple hadn’t drawn us to it, then, where a cross stood in the place of Woden's statue, and where only postholes remained to mark where my own image, and that of Thor, should have stood. Instead, we'd gone to the great hall, where I'd paused on the threshold to say a prayer to my gods.
Instinct had drawn those words of respect from my lips, without me ever realising why I needed to recite them, because I, like so many others, hadn't known I walked atop a pagan grave, across the bones of a warrior seeress. The woman once led worship at Yeavering, speaking prophecy to those who sought her counsel. Even Woden had visited her, during his many journeys to Middangeard.
“It's strange,” Leof observed when I paused where the grave had once been, to hunker down, with my hand against the earth.
“What is?” I asked, looking up at him.
“How we're carved into this landscape and yet most people don't even remember,” he explained. “This place, this hill, is named for goats, the sacred animal of Thor. To the west, there's Easter Tor, named for the goddess Eostre, and Great Hetha, named for Heiđr, one of your names. Then there's Woden Law, and Raven Knowe, which are fairly obvious, but there's also Hungry Law. Gífre and Frec mean ravenous. Those last three are all near the Blind Burn, when I'm known as the blinded god, who cast my eye into a well, into a spring. We are part of this land, part of the fabric of the place, and even we forgot that for a time.”
“We had to forget in order to preserve it,” I noted, looking west, towards those hills that ran along the Scottish border.
“I know. I just feel a sense of awe now. Awe that I didn't experience before I became mortal,” Leof admitted slowly, marvelling at the observation. “I'm in awe of how much influence a story can have; the tales I told left marks on the landscape, even after our faith was chased into the shadows. Is that not amazing? That a story can change the world so completely, that even once the details are forgotten, some names still echo throughout the ages?”
Smiling, I straightened up once more, going to him and cupping his cheeks. Not for the first time, I hoped he could cling to that wonder. “Never lose that awe, my Leof. It serves you well.”
He smiled too, then his lips brushed mine, and he breathed, “How about we desecrate the church, seeing as they saw fit to desecrate our temple? We can call it redressing the balance.”
His fingers brushed upwards from my hips, up my sides, and around the swell of my leather-bound breasts. My breathing hitched, desire already pooling low in my belly as one of his hands copped my neck, drawing me closer, and the other curved around my breast, kneading and teasing while I pressed my thighs together in need.
“It's a good job your ward is in place, or we might offend some of our allies,” I teased as my own fingers meshed in his golden hair.
While God's opinion probably should have concerned me, right then, all I cared about was my husband and my need for him.
“But you said you wanted me naked under the stars, Leof, and I find I'm not inclined to gainsay your wishes.”
Lifting me with ease, he carried me to where the temple had once stood, but he paused as he placed me on the grass.
“Promise me that we'll be together, always?” he asked, perhaps needing to hear the pledge just as much as I needed him to claim me.
“Always, Leof. For all of time,” I promised.
Whether the future took the path I wanted, or led us to the darkness and torture of Valhalla, we'd walk it together. But that was another possibility that I refused to dwell on as my husband began to peel the leather from my heating body.
“I love you,” he breathed, adoration in his golden eye.
“I know,” I answered with a soft smile. “And I love you too, Woden. Eternally.”
He kissed me deeply, his mouth demanding against mine, while his fingers began to explore my body. For a few hours more, he took me away from uncertainty, away from fear, and defiance, and obligation. And when I screamed his name at the stars, I felt whole in a way no other could grant me.
