There is absolutely no pretext that can be given to explain why creatures of any level of sentience would sacrifice a very important thing for another. Perhaps it is love, perhaps it is courage, perhaps it is a bit of both. In any case, I leave you to determine this on your own. I am no willing source of information on this point, but I do know that I would most probably give a part of me to save another, no matter how insignificant that other may be.
Astrid sits in her rocking chair, knitting. She is highly expectant of her child, and her belly grows full. Gunnhild, who has by now learned to formulate complete thoughts effectively, slumbers beside Freya on the hearthstone.
Rather, Astrid thinks the wyrm to be asleep. In reality, the small red is staring out one of the windows at the snow that falls silently. She wonders at how free a tiny snowflake is, how gracefully it falls, and how it is always accompanied by the wind. She sighs inwardly, keeping it from Astrid. Her spines twitch all down her back. Evil thoughts are present, and that is evident even to her untrained mind. She rises, stretching as she does so.
*Lady Astrid,* she begins, thinking whether or not she should tell her bondmate of what she anticipates, *you've not told anyone of Kerr or Idony or Rona lately. When will we know what happens next?* She slithers over to Astrid's rocking chair, staring up at her bondmate with anxiety.
"When both Denby and Havelock can stay long enough for me to tell of them," Astrid replies, winding up loose yarn and depositing the knitting in the basket beside the rocking chair. "You seem troubled, love, what's wrong?"
*It snows an awful lot.*
"Indeed, it does. Would you like to rock with me a while?"
*I'd like that very much, thank you.* Gunnhild seems to smile, almost but not quite.
Astrid reaches down and caresses the wyrm's cheek affectionately. She smiles maternally and reaches for the little red dragon. Unfortunately, a heavy knock on the door to the cabin interrupts the moment.
"Miss Astrid! Come on out! We'd like a word with you!" calls the voice of Denby's father, Leif.
"Hide!" Astrid hisses to Gunnhild. The little wyrm dives into the sewing basket. Freya, the kitten, stirs a bit and peers up as Astrid hurries to the door. She opens it with a smile that quickly fades. Nearly half the town is on her lawn with blades, chains, and torches. Her heart sinks. "Leif, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She fakes a smile and forces it to her face.
"Ye've bewitched me Denby!" he bellows. "Undo it now else I'll have t' kill ye, and ye knows I don' want t' do that!"
"I've done nothing of the sort."
"LIES! All he speaks of is magic and dragons! We thought to bleed it out with the fever he'd developed, but that didna work 't'all! Undo your magic!"
"Father! Stop please!" Denby wails, wrestling against his mother's hold further in the crowd. Off on the outskirts is Havelock and his parents, merely quiet observers.
"Sir, I mean no disrespect, but you're mistaken," Astrid replies, glancing momentarilly at Leif's son. He seems quite pallid, especially in the crisp, snowy night.
In the moment that Astrid looks away, however, Leif raises his rapier. It is a narrow blade and etched with Christian symbols. "Pray t' yer gods, blaspheming witch! May God send ye t' Hell!" He raises the blade above his head and swings it down hard. A spout of blood from contact falls on the snow. Also to the snow falls the blood's owner-
"Gunnhild!" Astrid shrieks, brown eyes wide. The little wyrm is wrapped in the swan-feather mantle. She had flown up to take Leif's strike in her right eye. If she lived, she would never be able to use that eye again, and it would probably scar badly.
Gunnhild's remaining eye twitches and her spines flare with anticipation. Suddenly, her spines flick straight up and her mouth shoots open, along with her mouth. At first, no sound rushes forth, but suddenly, a forced, high-pitched "TREEEEEE!" echoes off the nearby trees. She sees the blade falling to finish the job.
Astrid looks up from her companion to see Leif's blade deflected by a lance. "Back off," a familiar voice states. "Lady Astrid is under divine protection. Lay down your weapons and we'll forget this entire ordeal."
Astrid glances around to see Ingegerd. She blinks. Off by Havelock is a man in a wide-brimmed hat with a long, silver beard. Various Valkyries are subduing the more rowdy members of the crowd. Not knowing what to say, Astrid returns her gaze to Gunnhild.
That is, she returns her gaze to the wyrm until Havelock shouts out, "Grandfather!" Denby, too, shouts the word. The two rush to the old man in the hat. He picks both up in a very grandfatherly manner and holds one in each arm. They begin to converse. Soon, the man shouts out, "These two shall be my cupbearers!" The last members of the crowd stare, and Denby's parents weep that their son becomes cup-bearer to a deity in which they do not believe.
"M'lord?" Ingegerd asks, raising an eyebrow. On further inspection, all the Valkyries are in full armor made of silver and gold plates with black chain mail. Each carries a weapon. The women are draped in white cloaks with blue lining, but their horses, which forrage a bit closer to the forest than expected, are draped with the swan-feather mantles. Various other Valkyries repeat the question.
"Freya, fix up that brave young lady," Odin instructs, delibrately ignoring the Valkyries' questions.
The kitten, who had been watching the blood slide easilly off Astrid's mantle, nods. She then transforms into a woman, and as she heals the wound on Gunnhild's face, she speaks. "I'll not close the scar," she states, her voice like honey and the gold which she so loves. "She's a brave one, and all should know what she did for you, Lady Astrid."
"L-Lord Odin? L-Lady Freya?" Astrid babbles as Freya rocks Gunnhild in her arms. "I fed Lady Freya tablescraps? Forgive me!" She presents herself prostrate to all present.
"Lady Astrid, please be reasonable. If I wanted more than scraps, would I have been a cat?"
"Then let me repay you. I know!" She departs into her cabin in a rush of energy and returns with two objects. "My wedding band for Lady Freya," Astrid explains, pressing the golden ring into the woman's hand and taking Gunnhild. "And my only bottle of wine for Lord Odin," she hands the bottle to Denby, the closer of the boys in the man's hands. "But for my sisters, the Valkyries, I have naught..."
"You have all, Lady Astrid," a tall Valkyrie with bronze hair and brown eyes states.
Astrid blinks. "Rona?" she inquires, swearing that the woman looks just as she had envisioned the travelling warrior woman of her tale of Kerr to look.
The woman shrugs, displaying throwing knives and a long sword in the process. Her eyes say that her name is Rona, but her gesture says otherwise. She prefers to remain unknown.
"Indeed, my sister speaks true," Ingegerd whispers from behind before repeating the words loud enough for all to hear. "Let us have a cheer for Lady Astrid! Kind of spirit, stout of heart, caring of nature, and strongest of us all!"
The cheer goes up throughout the ranks of the Valkyries. Even Freya and Odin are smiling. Astrid, however, merely stares. 'But I'm none of those things,' she muses to herself helplessly.
*You are all, Lady Astrid, and more,* Gunnhild's voice tells her. She seems asleep, but so often had she seemed such and had been awake.
'No, Gunnhild, you are all and more,' she replies mentally.
Background by Julianne's Background Textures