Chapter Thirty Six: Authorial Arrogance
~BlackRoseRaven
There was silence for a few moments as Luna breathed hard, looking across at the wall of brambles and trees as Scrivener Blooms stood ready on one side of her and Discombobulation crossed his arms moodily on the other.
For a few moments, there was only quiet... and finally, the brambles twisted out of the way as the trees rumbled and straightened, bending upward as their dead branches slowly withdrew. It left the path clear and the archway beyond unobstructed, and Luna smiled grimly as she strode forwards, Scrivener and Discombobulation behind her.
They passed through the archway and strode out into a circular field beyond. Ancient ruins of old architecture dotted the edges of the area, like this had once been some sacred ground, or some beautiful temple that had long been reclaimed by the land. Immense, golden-brown roots ran through the ground like massive veins all around the edges of the field, and beyond, seemed to drape off a sharp cliff and into the depths of a crater filled with thick, boiling fog.
And in the center of the meadow sat three figures around a simple, circular stone well. Two sat on one ancient, petrified log, and the last rested back on a large, flat stone by herself, the three Norns gazing calmly off in different directions before the Norn that sat alone said coldly: “Brynhild.”
Luna gritted her teeth but forced herself to stay calm as she looked towards her first: Skuld, her features hidden by a heavy cowl, leaving only the faintest gleam of pallid skin visible. A long, heavy cape fell over her shoulders and spilled out behind her, and her legs were primly crossed beneath a long skirt of chain mesh and golden drapery. A silver breastplate protected her body, and more mesh and gold cloth spilled along her arms to dexterous hands that were slowly polishing a silver sword. Things Luna found somehow offensive: this Watcher of the Future, wearing the costume of a warrior.
“We have been expecting you.” The Norn that spoke was clad in a thick golden dress, with a thinner, second layer overtop of white, feathery material. This was secured by several large, golden brooches and ornamental fasteners, and was cinched tight around her waist by a metallic belt. Decorative tassels and thin, gleaming braids of chain hung from the clasps, glittering with bright gemstones here and there that glowed like eyes.
Her hands were uncovered, holding an needle and thread in yellow, dexterous digits tipped with sharp black talons, and flaxen, golden hair spilled down a golden-painted mask that locked over her features. Her eyes gazed coldly out from the slits cut in this, and Scrivener couldn't help but shiver at the sight of it: the mask was held on by several large bands of iron that formed a cap over the Norn's skull, and made it look as if it had been bolted over her features. She was Verdandi, Witness of the Present.
The last Norn chuckled quietly: her clothing was much more elegant and decorative, heavy black cloth edged in gold, a crimson shawl wrapped tightly around her neck and a hood held tightly down onto her head by a coronet made from polished, twisted-together bull horns. A golden amulet gleamed around her neck, and a black veil concealed most of her face from view, leaving only her eyes and the wrinkled, ancient and mottled skin around them visible. Metal, clawed gauntlets covered her hands, and she was easily using these to cut complex shapes into the wooden, cone-shaped staff in her hand. Urd, Beholder of the Past.
The three Fates: Luna gritted her teeth, determination and anxiety both mixing together with the faintest whisper of fear before Urd looked up from her work, whispering: “And what you've lived through, young child... it is impressive. I do not hate you, little one, as much as my sisters do... but I behold what has already happened. I know all your history, oh yes... and while I do not approve of it, I can see that you are... a useful ally to have.”
“I see the present. I see across from me a child, a fool, and a failure.” Verdandi said coldly, and Luna snarled, beginning to step forwards before the Norn calmly put her thread aside and reached easily down, picking up a half-woven tapestry inside a wooden frame, and Luna froze in surprise at the sight of the image of herself half-completed over the fabric. “Do not be foolish, Brynhild. I know how you work. I know exactly what you're doing. I know exactly what you're planning and thinking.”
“And I gaze into the future. I know what you're about to do. I know how all stories end, I know the truth before it even becomes truth.” Skuld said coldly, leaning forwards before she rose her silver sword, pointing it towards Luna as she seemed to smile cruelly beneath her hood. “I'll give you a taste of the future. You are nothing but a pawn. And nothing you do, no attempt you make to fight fate matters.”
“Shush now, Skuld.” chided Urd, and Skuld grumbled as she fell quiet, before the eldest Norn looked calmly towards the three, surveying them thoughtfully as Luna growled under her breath. “We have called you here for a reason, little one. We knew you would reach us... just as we knew the chaos beast would as well.”
“Yes, I'm sure that's precisely why you tried to drop a bomb on me.” Discombobulation muttered, and then he winced when Urd pointed the staff she was carving at him, the Draconequus flinching away.
“Now now, Ginnungagap acolyte, just as you are unable to do anything but follow the flow of your instincts and do as Fate decrees, so are we.” Urd replied almost kindly, but there was again that sense of patronization, made all the worse by the complacency, the arrogance of her body language. Then she glanced calmly down at the rune-covered staff, saying softly: “That is why we brought you here. So you may understand that no matter what you do... no matter what you know... you cannot change your fate.”
Luna snorted at this, as Scrivener shook his head slowly, before Verdandi added disgustedly: “Even with your struggling, even with how you dared to try and change what Fate has in store for you both, and on more than one occasion. Even with Odin's interferences and distortions, you cannot affect your destiny. The story's ending is written first, and that ending is always death, that ending is always defeat and failure.”
Skuld snorted at this, adding moodily: “Everything moves according to laws and rules. Everything is decided from the moment you are born, and all we do is record these rules, these laws, these pre-written endings. You are all nothing more than masses of biology and energy interacting in an environment that must always follow certain dedicated rules and norms. How could you not see that the outcome is already decided? How can you disagree? I see your future now, Brynhild, you are going to attempt to argue, you are going to attempt to fight, and you are going to find your way into a world of clanking gears and machinery... and you are going to die there, along with Scrivener Blooms. This is unavoidable.”
Luna snorted, closing her eyes as Scrivener shook his head and Discombobulation stayed silent. Then Verdandi looked evenly up and across at Luna, her eyes glinting as she calmly answered before the winged unicorn could even form the question: “No. You have never truly defied us. You have never truly 'changed' your story: all you did was sloppily merge the lesser mortal's into your own, turning two texts into one. One that should have ended long ago.”
“There's always another story.” Discombobulation said quietly, and then he smiled a little as he studied the Norns silently. “That's what you don't like, isn't it? That there is no end; that even if there is such thing as Fate, you're still only slaves; slaves to your own machines, chained down by your own laws and rules, unable to do anything but sit back and record what's going on in the wide, wide world out there, where whether bound by laws or not, people are still free, as free to be you and me as we like to be, oh, all in that wide-”
In a moment, Skuld was on her feet and across the field, and Discombobulation gasped, leaning forwards as his eyes bulged, the Norn's sword buried up to the hilt in his stomach as she whispered quietly: “Be silent, patchwork doll. Do not press your luck: your death may be set years from now, but there is nothing declaring you reach your death-day in one piece.”
Luna snarled, leaping forwards, but Skuld tore the sword back and flicked it hard to the side as she shoved the Draconequus onto his back, splattering Discombobulation's blood over the winged unicorn's features and blinding her before Skuld slammed the pommel of the sword down into Luna's skull, knocking her flat. Scrivener Blooms staggered in mid-lunge, and the Norn was able to easily turn, slapping him across the face with the flat of the blade before she brought the weapon back for a deadly thrust, but Urd said sharply: “No, Skuld. It is not time yet.”
Skuld trembled, then she sighed in disgust and shook her head, looking down at them with distaste. Discombobulation was bleeding from the mouth and the hole that had pierced through his stomach and out his back, covering the wound tightly; Luna was laying on the ground, stunned and stupefied and disgusted with both herself and the Norns; Scrivener was on his side, a large smear of blood over his face. For a moment, the Norn surveyed them... then she flicked her weapon, splattering droplets of Draconequus blood over Luna in a gesture of contempt before turning her back on the three and striding back to her stone.
She sat down as Luna picked herself up and turned her eyes to Discombobulation, but he only held up his talon and shook his head. Luna nodded after a moment, then she instead turned her gaze back to the Norns, gritting her teeth before she asked coldly: “Would thou like to test thy mettle against me in proper combat, coward?”
“We don't fight yet. Not for at least a few years, then we'll settle things, Brynhild.” Skuld replied contemptibly, and then she smiled cruelly, tilting her head back slightly as she added darkly: “After you've earned a little more bitterness. After you've begun to lose everything that's ever mattered to you. After you start to truly suffer.”
Luna fought hard not to take the bait, before Verdandi added coldly: “That's right. Today, we invited you here to tell you the truth about yourself. That you've been living a lie your whole life, playing with these lower life forms, submitting yourself to their rules and laws. And to warn you to stay out of the way of Valthrudnir's remaining machinations. Oh, we know you won't... but we are compelled to do as we must, just as you are.”
“Valthrudnir was not supposed to die when you and Scrivener Blooms attempted to kill him, you see.” Urd said softly, and Luna looked sharply up at these words as Scrivener Blooms stared in disbelief, feeling a chill run down his spine before the veiled Fate looked up and seemed to smile knowingly with her ancient eyes. “So he didn't. Because that was not the time we had written. That was not the ending we had given him.”
“Impossible!” Luna snapped, and then she snarled, shaking her head violently. “I saw the monster die with mine own eyes! Scrivener Blooms bested the fool at his own game and not even a Jötnar could survive my horn through his damnable eye! Why, the echo of the creature itself-”
“Physical death is nothing.” Verdandi said distastefully, flicking a wrist dismissively before she rolled her head slowly on her shoulders. “Valthrudnir lives on. And at this very moment in time, he plots his revenge... he plots a way to destroy you, and then destroy these worlds and layers. He will be destroyed and swallowed up by his own machinations, and at this very moment, he is moving forwards...”
“But he is no longer safe from us. Ymir's charm is lost, and the destruction of his body was a devastating blow. He lives on, in a way, oh yes...” Urd said softly, putting the rune-covered staff aside to pick up a new, blank piece of wood, and she smiled as she slowly began to carve along this, saying softly: “A child was just born somewhere.”
“A child who will die of leukemia in four years' time.” Skuld said with a snort, and then the cloaked Norn looked over at Luna, asking icily: “Would you like to know how you die, Brynhild? It is at Valthrudnir's claws. He will have his revenge upon you. You and Scrivener Blooms both... and you will experience death twice, because of your pathetic soul-link, and neither time will be easy nor fast. I only regret it will not be at my blade.”
Luna snarled, looking furious, desperate, her emotions rampaging as Discombobulation stared over at the Fates blankly and Scrivener clenched his eyes shut, trying to keep both himself and Luna calm as shivers raced through his body. Of fear, of hate, of disbelief, of so many things and so many emotions as he breathed hard in and out before he looked up, unable to stop himself from whispering as a twist of anger spilled through him: “You're wrong.”
The Norns only laughed quietly, looking up at him with entertainment before Urd said gently: “Don't be silly, child. So many have told us that in the past, from lowliest mortal to greatest of god, and we have never been wrong. Yes, our stories have been interfered with, endings have... been interpreted differently than anticipated... but we are absolute. None can stand against us, and the ending we write is the ending that is given.
“You think us cruel for bringing you here, seemingly simply with the intent of mocking you? Not at all: we are trying to warn you. We are trying to show you that there are things to which you must always bow your head, no matter what.” Urd chided quietly. “Besides, you have earned our contempt and anger, have you not? Look at yourselves: Luna Brynhild, a reincarnate who replaced the Luna that should have been in that layer of reality. A blasphemy, like removing the pages of a book and replacing them with another story. And then, further twisting and confusing her story, she linked herself to you... and it just had to be you, didn't it, Scrivener Blooms? That is not what the original story said, after all...”
Scrivener frowned slowly at this as Luna leaned forwards, before Urd smiled as she put the half-carved staff aside and calmly made a simple beckoning gesture with one finger. And a moment later, another staff of ash calmly rose from the ground in front of her, this one cracked and glowing strangely in places before Luna's eyes widened as she whispered: “That is...”
“We write your stories upon these staves, which shatter and decay when the ending is finally reached.” Urd replied softly, gesturing over the charred and cracked and warped staff. “Yours is ugly. Like your story. Distorted, reckless, worthless, and damaged, and filled with inconsistencies and plot holes. Originally, it was a happy story... now it is not.”
Verdandi smiled coldly, saying softly: “Your true love is thinking about you right now. Missing you. You made a mistake, Brynhild, you made a wrong choice. You weren't supposed to end up with Scrivener Blooms, and even less were you supposed to try and merge yet another pony's story with your own... your greed eclipses Valthrudnir's and disgusts us. At least he is doing us a favor.”
“A favor, yes.” Skuld said calmly, before Luna could even come up with a response as horror filled her eyes. “He's destroying unnecessary worlds. Getting rid of all the unnecessary stories. Wiping the grime away from the perfection the universe once followed: Fates above all, no reincarnations, no lies, no 'soulmates,' no false stories... like Scrivener Blooms.”
Scrivener felt a shiver at this, as Verdandi mocked quietly: “Special, you call yourself, because you can resist the evil of a Tyrant Wyrm... is that truly special? Or is that cursed and damned and hideous? Because in your head swims Valthrudnir's corruption... and just like Brynhild, a Valkyrie, whore-puppet to Odin... you are nothing but a toy yourself, Scrivener Blooms. Fruit of the poisonous tree: you are Valthrudnir's greatest weapon against his greatest threat, your false love. You are nothing but an abomination that slithered its way into the story of another pony. You resist corruption... because you are a corrupted life.”
Scrivener stared and shook his head, shaking his head weakly, breathing hard as Luna trembled and looked over at him, then snarled and looked ahead, whispering: “No. I shan't listen to thee. Odin warned us that thy words are poison... thou art speaking in nonsense to confuse us, to try and turn us against each other, but damnation, I would... I love Scrivener Blooms, more than anything in the world! May the world be damned to Helheim for all I care, as long as I have him... as long as we have each other. Oh aye, I adore Twilight Sparkle, love her even... but she is not my soulmate. Scrivener Blooms is, and I shall not permit thee to attempt to spread jealousy and poison into my family.”
“Scrivener Blooms is nothing but a shadow that Valthrudnir eagerly seized into during the farce of a card game. That his echo penetrated. But what if it was all a ruse? What if it was all a game?” mocked Skuld, and her teeth flashed beneath her hood in a wide, cruel grin. “Scrivener Blooms, don't you dream of Valthrudnir more often than you dream of Brynhild?”
“Scrivener Blooms is not a Horcrux.” Discombobulation muttered, and the Norns looked displeased as the Draconequus slowly sat up, breathing quietly and closing his eyes as he murmured: “So this is what Gymbr meant when he said 'beware of cawing crows.' I suppose you three will say anything to get what you want, won't you?”
The Norns were silent, and the Draconequus smiled wryly as he looked up, Luna and Scrivener both shaking off some of their fear, their anger, their pain, before Scrivener straightened and asked in a roughened voice: “What did you mean when you said I was a corrupted life?”
“Rarely, mortals are born and we... are caught... unprepared.” Urd said calmly, leaning forwards with an almost kind look, but there was again that arrogance, that sense of being gazed down upon with condescending superiority. “We misplace them in one way or another... and we end up not giving them a story. Oh, yes, we can still determine how they will die, and if we so desire, we can insert events into their life to hasten their death or affect them in what ways we please, but usually we simply write these 'lost children' a quick death at the end of a short life and allow their stories to play out as they will.
“However, they sometimes... begin affecting the already-written stories of others. As you did with Brynhild: her story was already written, but... you began to spend more and more time together. You changed her story: instead of her journeying alone, you followed her. And on the day of your death, Brynhild bound her soul with yours. And thus her staff, her story... was corrupted.”
Urd gestured gently at the ugly, cracked and warped staff, and Scrivener and Luna both stared at this before Discombobulation slowly crawled up to his feet, removing his hand from the wound that had healed already down to an ugly line before he asked distastefully: “Oh, so the reason you hate him is because you misplaced all the receipts and bills, so now you expect him to pay up the price you've randomly determined is fair and do all the work filing his tax forms all over again because of your petty mistake. Yes, that sounds perfectly fair.”
“Are you asking me to put another hole in you, patchwork doll?” asked Skuld sharply, and Discombobulation winced and stumbled backwards a step before she added coldly: “And it changes nothing. Yes, his existence has caused... unexpected effects. But his death came and went, just as we saw. Just as Brynhild's will, too. All we're saying is that he is a flaw that should have been rooted out, and that if anything, you should hate him, Brynhild. Without him in your life, you would have been much happier.”
“Does this have any impact on anything at all apart from your own pride? Or is this all just setup for us to understand why you hate Luna and Scrivener Blooms so much?” asked Discombobulation curiously, and then he winced and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender when Skuld leapt to her feet. “Point taken and received, no pun intended. But Gymbr says-”
Verdandi held up a hand, and Discombobulation's jaws snapped shut as he winced and grabbed at his features before the Norn said coldly: “Do not mock us, Ginnungagap beast. Hold palaver as often as you like with your own kind but do not expect us to be interested in hearing what you or others like you have to say. Ever.”
The Draconequus grimaced, and then Luna leaned forwards, asking sharply: “And of what does thou know of this Gymbr? Is he-”
“He is a creation of Valthrudnir's.” Urd lied calmly, and Scrivener couldn't help but marvel even through his confusion, fury, and frustration at how glibly and easily the Norn told the flat-out untruth. “But surely you've figured that out by now, haven't you?”
“The mockery is a nice touch, yes, but it's still pretty clear you're lying. It helps that the one thing we are sure of is that Gymbr isn't from Valthrudnir.” Scrivener replied quietly, and somehow it made him feel better, calmer, even as the eyes of the Norns all turned coldly towards him. “Funny. We thought he came from you.”
“Very well. He is the ultimate end of one of Valthrudnir's creations.” Urd said in a colder voice, and then she paused before leaning forwards and flicking her hand to make the ominous-looking staff vanish from where it was still floating, the oldest of the Norns looking calmly into the space where it had been moments ago before she dded quietly: “And you shouldn't talk to us like that, mortal. If Brynhild didn't have her spear, we wouldn't even believe she was anything but a mortal herself... but unfortunately, it is proof she was a Valkyrie, and it denies us the right to put her and her companions through further tests... however we might... disapprove.”
“Rules, rules, rules.” Luna mocked, looking disgusted before she shook her head slowly and asked distastefully: “Tell me, did thou write the rules for thyselves as well? Or did thou write rules for one-another, leaving in secrets and clauses to better put thyselves in the advantage should past, present, and future all collide?”
“You cannot divide us or turn us on one-another, Brynhild. We have nothing to gain from it.” Urd said with false pleasantness, and then she added quietly: “And I see now that it is long past the time you were welcome to stay.”
“So allow me to summarize for you.” Verdandi stood and stepped forwards, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes from behind her mask. “Stay out of Valthrudnir's way. He is very much alive and very eager to destroy you. Consider your options and one-another: you are not the story that was meant to be told. And Fate is unstoppable, but that does not mean we need to be enemies. Submit to us, listen to our wishes, and perhaps we can alter your destiny: let Valthrudnir purge the realms, and we will clean what remains, and you and Scrivener Blooms will be free to destroy Valthrudnir.”
“How generous, telling us we may kill our enemy after he has won. And I expect that even if we did, Valthrudnir would kill us at the same time we kill him, aye?” Luna asked disgustedly, and Verdandi only gave a snort.
Skuld, lastly, looked calmly up, saying coldly: “That was a gift, telling you your end. You should thank us for it.” She paused, then said softly: “You should thank us for much. Look at how much we have told you and shared with you, a corrupted reincarnation and a life that never should have lived, and worst of all the patchwork doll that thinks itself above all the rules.”
“This has been a pointless and fruitless expedition. All it has confirmed is that thou art our enemies. And know this, Norns... even if thou art the Fates, if thou interferes in any way, aids Valthrudnir, or attempt to do harm against myself, my husband, or any of my family...” Luna narrowed her eyes, leaning forwards coldly. “I shall kill all of thee. Consider this not just warning, but mercy and quarter: for as far as I am concerned, thou all deserve to perish anyway for the sick games thy kind plays with us.”
Urd only smiled calmly, however, then she stood slowly, saying softly: “Very well, if you would accuse us in childishness of being inhospitable, even after all the help we have attempted to provide... you may drink from this well. It will give you a taste of exactly what you have always desired, no matter what it is.”
Scrivener and Luna traded uneasy looks at this... and then the winged unicorn nodded slowly to the earth pony stallion, and they both silently turned their heads forwards as Luna said fearlessly: “Then I shall accept thy offer, if only because I do not think thou art such great cowards thou would stoop to poisoning myself and my husband.”
“That would be foolish, to poison what is already poisoned.” Urd replied in her too-gentle, mocking voice, and Scrivener and Luna both looked at her with the same silent grimace for a moment before the earth pony stepped quietly ahead, the winged unicorn smiling faintly at him even as Urd said softly: “Yes, that makes sense, considering your past. Always longing for more... a mark of a corrupter. Your hunger never ceases, does it?”
Scrivener didn't reply as he leaned forwards over the well, gazing down into it silently: it looked like normal water, in a normal well. For a few moments, he hesitated, gazing up at the sky overhead, then out at Yggdrasil in the distance where it stood, gargantuan and enormous and reaching high into the clouds above, base shrouded by the heavy mist... and he couldn't help but ask quietly: “Did Ymir really plant that?”
“That's none of your business.” Verdandi said shortly, and Scrivener glanced towards her as Urd remained silent before he turned his eyes back to the well, hearing what the Norns weren't saying as Skuld glared at him. They don't know. Maybe they're not as omniscient as they like to think they are...
Slowly, he leaned downwards, taking a deep, long drink of the water... and when nothing happened and he wasn't yanked away, he took another swallow of the liquid. It felt good in his parched throat and it soothed his anxiety-twisted stomach, it made him relax and calm as he drank deeper of the waters... then finally drew back with a sigh, rubbing slowly at his lips before he turned around and walked away.
Nothing continued to happen, and Scrivener snorted in amusement as he turned around, sitting down beside Luna and glancing at her as he shrugged a little, before softening as his eyes drew over her: gorgeous, strong, dependable, always ready to help him... “Maybe it didn't work because I already have everything I could ever need.”
Luna smiled softly at him, and the Norns remained silent as the winged unicorn strode forwards next. She leaned up over the well, then bowed down fearlessly, drinking deep from the water before sighing loudly and arching her back... and then her eyes slowly widened as she stared up at the sky, seeing not blue, but black, starry night, as Nightmare Moon writhed and shivered inside of her.
Visions played through her mind, and Luna flexed as she leaned down over the well, gasping quietly and gritting her teeth as Scrivener began towards her... but then he stumbled and simply fell forwards, groaning as a twist of pain went through his head and strange, alien sights flashed in front of his eyes. Discombobulation winced, then gritted his teeth when Verdandi seized Luna by her sparking, ephemeral mane and threw her backwards; before the Draconequus could even step towards them, Skuld was in front of him, edge of her sword shoving up against his throat as she said softly: “Being hard to kill is not always an advantage, patchwork doll. I don't think you would enjoy how long it might take me to cut you apart.”
“You ladies are real nasty pieces of work. Like Charlie's Angels gone to Helheim.” Discombobulation rasped, leaning awkwardly back with a wince as he slowly held up his hands. “And all your rules... we Ginnungagap types aren't very fond of rules, you know. So I was thinking I'd just take my friends and leave...”
“But it's so interesting to watch Brynhild and Scrivener Blooms trying to struggle against not only us, but even themselves, despite the fact we have been so generous as to offer them a kindness.” Urd replied softly, before she frowned when Verdandi's eyes widened in surprise and she stumbled backwards, shaking her head in disbelieving denial. “Sister, what is-”
Then a second Discombobulation appeared in a puff of neon smoke, reaching down to quickly seize Scrivener and Luna before he simply vanished from the spot with them, and Skuld snarled over her shoulder before looking back at the still calmly-standing Discombobulation in front of her. It simply rose a hand and waved once, and then Skuld slashed viciously through it... only for the illusion to explode in a blast of light and fireworks that knocked her sprawling and covered the Norns in a cloud of dust and smoke.
Discombobulation reappeared a moment later on the walkway in front of the tunnel entrance leading to the Norns, his body pale as he dropped to his knees with a rasp at the effort it had taken as he leaned forwards, then winced as he grasped at his stomach, pulling his hand away and finding it bloody before he mumbled: “Excuse me, we're in Heaven, so I could really use a deus ex machina right now... and I really, really don't think that's too much to ask...”
Slowly, he looked back and forth at Luna and Scrivener, then the Draconequus carefully dragged himself back to a sitting position before he stared stupidly up as an irritable voice asked: “Oh, look at what we have here.”
“Not what I meant.” Discombobulation mumbled as he looked moodily over at a unicorn that was calmly striding towards them on his rear legs, smooth, metallic black hands laced together in front of his waist, a casual purple dress jacket and silk shirt over his upper body. The god looked over the three meditatively, seeming undisturbed by the condition they were all in before the Draconequus asked sourly: “Why do you look like that?”
“Because you do not wish to see my actual body. It is... unpleasant.” Kvasir replied distastefully, looking moodily down at one of his black metal hands as he absently wiggled the digits. “All I truly care about is having these. Hooves are useless.”
Luna mumbled weakly as if trying to respond to this even in her insensate state, and Kvasir sighed as he looked down at the still mostly-unconscious ponies before his eyes roved moodily up over Discombobulation, surveying the Draconequus thoughtfully as the chaos entity looked grouchily back at the god. For a few moments, there was only silence between them... and finally, Kvasir turned around and shook his head as he began to stride back towards Valhalla, saying irritably even as there was perhaps the faintest flicker of concern in his eyes: “Wait there. I'll fetch Odin, he is not far... I was merely trying to find a place where I could safely avoid him but apparently I must first play hero to a patchwork doll, and a former Valkyrie and her gigolo.”
“So considerate. I think I'll just die of gratitude now.” Discombobulation muttered, and then the Draconequus flopped forwards onto his face between Scrivener and Luna, still clutching at the aching, ripped-open wound in his stomach as the color slowly continued to fade from his body. “Not even... anyone around to hear any final words I might have to say...”
Slowly, Discombobulation's eyes closed as Scrivener and Luna both shivered on either side of him... and the Draconequus couldn't help but smile wryly as he shivered once on the bridge, taking a twisted pleasure even as he spiraled into darkness that if he did die, at least it would prove the Norns wrong.
Luna slowly, tiredly awoke in a soft, comfy bed in what was clearly some kind of medical area. The curtains were drawn around her bed, not letting her see anything but shifting black shapes as figures walked back and forth, the murmur of voices reaching her ears but... indistinct, hazy, not making any sense.
She shook herself briskly, then sat up slowly with a grunt, rubbing at her chest and grimacing at the feeling that her armor had been removed. She still felt dazed, and there was a distinct heaviness in her mind that told her Scrivener Blooms was unconscious as well. Her muscles ached, and her body felt heavy, as if she'd gone twenty rounds with a horde of dragons instead of simply sipping some professed-to-be-magical water from the Norns... and then she cursed quietly under her breath, rubbing slowly at her lips before flopping backwards and sighing raggedly, muttering: “Gifts from strangers again, Luna. 'Twas foolish.”
She looked up at the ceiling, then closed her eyes and concentrated... but it wasn't hard for her to slip her way quietly back down into darkness and towards Scrivener's unconscious, dreaming self, images forming slowly in her mind before becoming crystal clear, sharp, and alive as she sifted gently through his thoughts.
She found him, dreaming of a beautiful and broken dark world: not a nightmare, not their so-called 'nightmare' world, but something that was all-too-similar all the same. It had the same strange taste and allure about it, a horizon that seemed boundless and a ceiling of blackest and most-beautiful night. There was even a mighty, dark castle in the distance, and Luna found Scrivener sitting in a lonely wasteland, the stallion gazing silently at this.
Luna sat quietly down beside him, and Scrivener smiled a little, glancing towards her, studying her for a few moments before he asked softly: “Have I ever told you that I wish sometimes... we could dream forever? Because these dreams, these visions... can last for a million years in here, and only a few moments in reality. Because we can do anything and everything here that we ever wanted... and better yet, do it all without hurting anyone, without putting anybody at risk or in danger.”
“Aye, Scrivy, but... we have good things and responsibility in reality, too. Many reasons to continue to live, and to fight.” the winged unicorn replied quietly, leaning over and closing her eyes as she buried her face against the side of his neck. “Do not despair, beetle. But what is bothering thee? The fact we were so easily fooled by the Norns? Or is it something else, something more?”
“I'm scared to wake up, Luna. I think something is different about my body... and moreover, I wonder... about what the Norns said.” Scrivener replied quietly, and Luna gazed at him softly, silently, before he turned towards her and nuzzled her slowly, even as she kept herself pressed tightly up against him. “Imagine that, me... special. But special in a way that's... maybe flawed. That maybe means I never should have existed... does it mean I had actual free will, the Norns actually didn't decide my life for me? And... if that was true... is it really such a good thing that they didn't, considering how my life... kind of was?”
“Maybe the reason thy life was so poor was precisely because the Norns found thee offensive, so they wrote in as much as they could to make thee suffer as greatly as possible... although I find a strange confusion in their words. If they had 'misplaced' thee, how could they write the end of thy life and modify thy so-called 'story' all the same?” Luna looked down thoughtfully. “I do not know if I believe them, Scrivener. I think they may just have been... speaking in order to speak, in order to sow dissent. I... I know that I never would have been as happy with Twilight as I am with thee. I... I chose thee for many reasons, Scrivener Blooms. And not just the fact thou art almost as pretty a mare as her, but slightly-more-versatile.”
Scrivener smiled a bit, before Luna winked and added mildly: “Besides, they seemed to know that Twilight has found a place with us all the same, and it seemed to disgust them. I think that is another sign we have done well with each other, does thou not agree?”
The stallion only laughed at this, shaking his head slowly before he murmured: “We're an odd little family. And yet I don't mind that at all. Not that I'd really have any reason to mind it in the first place, of course...” Scrivener looked down, closing his eyes and laughing quietly. “I'm... very fortunate, all things considered.”
“Aye, yes, I am a great fortune.” Luna replied softly, snuggling herself a little tighter against him before she gazed up quietly. “But nay, 'tis not just that. We all care deeply, one for the other. We have spilled blood together, and shared much with each other. And we have long ago established rules and boundaries and... trust. Absolute trust. It has been far from easy, after all. Only a fool would think it did not require a monumental effort.”
The charcoal stallion nodded slowly after a moment, rubbing at the scarred side of his face quietly before he sighed a little, asking quietly: “What did you think of what they said about Valthrudnir, though? I think that's... what's really bothering me. Because while they had... I dunno, it seemed all too possible they could have been lying about so much else... when they talked about him...”
“Aye, I know. There was a terrible sense of truth in their words.” Luna murmured quietly, closing her eyes and bowing her head forwards before she grimaced a little. “A sense that they were not lying... in fact, that they were almost bragging. As if perhaps they had something to do with his... his possible resurrection...”
“I don't know if I'd go that far...” Scrivener murmured quietly, and Luna cocked her head curiously even as she continued to rest herself against him, and the earth pony slipped a hoof up around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “I don't think anyone can... really come back from what we did to him together. Even if he planted that echo in my head... I dunno. Truth and yet not truth. Maybe it's like what Odin said... shards of his will...”
Scrivener looked silently at the wasteland, and for a little while, they only sat together in the darkness together before Luna finally sighed and murmured: “We should be responsible, Scrivener, and return to reality now. It has been long enough that we have spent... indulging this special solitude together.”
“Solitude together. I like when you talk.” Scrivener smiled a little, then he laughed a bit when Luna headbutted him lightly, the male grunting and then nodding once. “But... you're right, yeah. Let's get ourselves moving. I'll see you on the other side, Luna.”
The two gazed at one another, then shared a short, gentle kiss for a moment before they drew back as darkness twisted up and around them, blinding them as they withdrew from their shared mind and soul. And a moment later, Luna groggily blinked her eyes before she slowly sat up once more in reality... and grimaced immediately at the sight of Odin standing over her, the once-god smiling tiredly down at her as he reached out and touched her shoulder gently. “I thought you were awake.”
“I thought thou wert... stupid.” Luna mumbled in response, and Odin looked torn between exasperation and relief before the winged unicorn shook her head briefly, saying moodily: “I take that back, as... I must admit that nay, 'twas I who was the stupid one this time. The Norns offered myself and my husband something after we endured their silly, sickening games and we were dumb enough to accept... wait, Bob, where is Bob?”
“The Draconequus is fine and well, worry not. Although the Knights were afraid of him, once I found out that he had outwitted the Norns and given them the shock he did, well... I was more than willing to step in on his behalf. He has a nice little room to himself, just down the hall.” Odin's smile surprisingly turned into a rare grin, looking pleased as he shook his head slowly. “Unpredictable chaos and confusion. I could have learned a thing or two from these creatures in the past.”
Luna looked relieved as she settled herself back, gazing past Odin: now that the curtains had been withdrawn, she could see that she was in an infirmary... and across from her, Scrivener Blooms was slowly beginning to sit up. He blinked tiredly... and the winged unicorn frowned a bit at the sight of him, something wrong about the male's form before her eyes widened as she whispered: “Odin, my husband...”
“It's only temporary. You drank from the Well of Urd, didn't you?” Odin softened, looking over his shoulder at Scrivener as the stallion smiled faintly, rubbing at features that had half-transformed into the guise of a Tyrant Wyrm. “Do not... take this the wrong way, Brynhild, but this is part of the reason why you should not... play with your ability to polymorph. Yes, we are all guilty of it here, certainly, but... that does not mean it is a good idea.”
“Oh, 'tis no fault of mine Scrivy looks like that.” Luna frowned a little as Scrivener sat up, shaking his head out and looking exhausted. “A... touch of what we desire most...”
“Yes, it's a cruel joke and a crueler-still poison.” Odin replied quietly, sighing a little and glancing over at Scrivener as well. “But it won't last long. It's merely an attempt on their part to divide our ranks, but... I am not about to turn on yourself or Scrivener Blooms after all you have done for me merely because they have made it seem as if you and he desire...”
“What we desire is... none of thy business, none of anyone's business. Making us wear it on our faces, bah.” Luna muttered, and then she winced and shoved her sheets suddenly back, Odin looking at her with surprise as the winged unicorn looked worriedly over herself before she sighed in relief. “Oh. I feared for a moment I had some bizarre transformation as well, but I see I have not. Thou had best not have been the one to remove my armor, old lecher, I'll pummel thee mightily.”
“Worry not, Luna the medical staff took care of that and I had your equipment taken to the blacksmith's for polishing and repairs. Your spear is safe too, of course... it tells me you didn't let it see much battle, however, if any at all.” Odin smiled a little, saying quietly: “It's an insult to the weapon, not to use it.”
“It would be a greater insult to use it against such toys as the Norns tossed in our path. Besides, I have my own weapons and they work just as well.” Luna's eyes flicked up to her horn, smiling slightly before she added seriously: “And unlike thine own horn, mine never breaks nor fails to penetrate... dirty old cyclops.”
Odin sighed tiredly at this, then he shook his head and strode across the infirmary to Scrivener, and Luna softened and looked quietly over at her husband. The stallion was rubbing moodily at his face, feeling out the scales, the shape of his muzzle, the horn standing up from the side of his head... and then he smiled awkwardly up at Odin when the once god leaned forwards and asked gently: “How do you feel?”
Scrivener Blooms only smiled a little, shrugging after a moment and saying quietly: “I've been worse. Not really pain or anything... not even surprise at... this... but... I feel really lethargic, I guess. Really slow and drained.”
The once-god nodded slowly, and then Scrivener glanced across at Luna, sharing a look with her before he returned his eyes to Odin, saying quietly: “The Norns told us that Valthrudnir was still alive somehow.”
“The Norns are liars who will say and do anything, with the sole intent of hurting and upsetting those who would disagree with them.” Odin replied calmly, looking unsurprised as he shook his head slowly, and Scrivener smiled a little, feeling much more reassured now even as a faint worm of worry continued to writhe through the back of his mind. “Not even a Jötnar as powerful as Valthrudnir could have survived the death and defeat he suffered at your hands.”
“Hooves.” Scrivener corrected absently, then he grinned lamely up at Odin in embarrassment when the once-god gave him an amused look. “Sorry, sorry. Reflex. But... well... thank you. I know that... the fact that I was...”
“You were simply a carrier, and the Jötnar a disease. But he is purged now, even if remnants of his influence remain.” Odin halted, then he smiled a little as he glanced up and gestured towards a unicorn at the other side of the infirmary. “It's funny, but your kind make for excellent healers. Strange to see the little brightly-colored ponies walking around Valhalla's mighty halls, but... I enjoy it, all the same. It makes me feel like... not everything was in vain.”
He quieted, then shook his head and smiled a little. “I know you and Brynhild are anxious to return home. But please, give yourselves a little time to rest as guests here in Valhalla, and make yourselves comfortable. I require a bit of time to sit down myself, but I promise to take you back home no later than tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Scrivener murmured, bowing his head awkwardly, but Odin only smiled again and shook his head before the once god turned away. Scrivener watched him leave, reaching up and rubbing meditatively at his face with a hoof again before the unicorn approached, and the half-wyrm, half-pony smiled awkwardly before allowing the medical pony to check him over.
Luna joined him a few moments later, half-dragging herself across the floor but seeming to steadily wake up more and more once she was on her hooves, and Scrivener gazed at her softly as the unicorn finished checking him over and pronounced him fit enough to leave the infirmary if he wanted, and that the polymorph was already showing signs of naturally receding.
Scrivener and Luna were more than glad to, the male slipping out of the bed and grimacing a bit as he shook his head out, making his mane sway around half-transformed features. Patches of scale flexed here and there over his body, but that was the extent of the transformation... and as Luna and Scrivener strode slowly out into the hall, the winged unicorn looked over him thoughtfully before she smiled a little and said: “I shall always say thou looks good like that.”
Scrivener snorted in amusement, shaking his head before he replied softly, smiling a little over at her: “Says Nightmare Moon.”
“Nay, say I, although it is one of the few things that Nightmare Moon and I agree on, yes.” Luna paused meditatively, looking down moodily as she muttered: “Perhaps we should dialogue with the creature. I do so loathe her, especially these days, but all the same she has respectfully remained quiet, just as she said she would. Of course, that in and of itself only makes me all the more nervous for a few reasons... but I suppose that between myself and her, there can never be complete peace.”
“I dunno. Maybe one day there will be.” Scrivener said quietly, looking ahead as Luna looked at him curiously, and the stallion shrugged after a moment as he glanced towards her with a quiet laugh. “Well, I dunno, really. Just... talking, maybe.”
She nodded as they strode down the polished, beautiful halls, passing Nibelung and other creatures that looked at them with interest, as they looked curiously back. Then Luna frowned a little as she halted and nudged Scrivener firmly, and the stallion turned his eyes towards a door blocked by two stoic-looking, armored Knights with shield and sword over their backs and hands calmly laced in front of themselves. But one of them had a balloon tied to the decorative horn stretching off his full helm, and Luna grinned slightly as she approached before saying seriously: “I expect that thou must be the senior officer, with thy pretty adornments.”
The Knight looked down at her moodily even as the other soldier kept his gaze ahead and focused, neither speaking or responding before Luna said kindly: “I desire to see the Draconequus on the other side of this door. He is a good friend. I wish to ensure he is well before my husband and I go gallivanting around Valhalla and causing trouble.”
The Knights only remained silent, and when Luna stepped forwards, they both reached out an arm across the door, shaking their heads quickly before the soldier with the balloon said clearly: “No admittance.”
“Oh, very well.” Luna rolled her eyes, then she leaned forwards and shouted: “Bob! If thou art not too weak to move, Scrivener Blooms and I are here to drag thee out of thy dreary prison and go wandering around Valhalla!”
There was silence... and then Luna glanced down as something caught her eye. It was a tiny arm, waving wildly from beneath the crack of the door, and Luna quickly brought her gaze back up when one of the knights began to look down, before she asked in a voice made more insulting by how honestly curious it sounded: “Do thee hide thy faces because of how ugly thou art?”
She leaned forwards, sweeping her head to the side and making her glowing, starry mane sway forwards and brush up against the door, ephemeral locks glowing lightly as the soldiers glared down at her before she said grouchily: “'Twas just a harmless question! Very well, if our company is so reviled, we shall take our business elsewhere!”
With that, Luna flicked her mane back, the starry locks twisting in and around on themselves as they swayed up along her spine, and then Luna half-spun with a huff and continued down the hall. Scrivener only smiled awkwardly at the guards, then he turned and hurried quickly off beside the winged unicorn before he traded entertained looks with her as they rounded a corner and a tiny Discombobulation poked his head carefully up out of her starry locks. He peered apprehensively back and forth, then mumbled in a voice loud enough for them to clearly hear even despite his tiny size: “Good. I was getting very, very bored, so I applaud you both for rescuing me.”
“And I thank thee for rescuing us again, Discombobulation, truly: the Norns may not have killed us, but they would undoubtedly have subjected us to worse tortures than death if they had been given the chance. They seemed to delight in experimenting upon us... and look, look at the gift they gave us.” Luna looked with a grimace towards Scrivener, who awkwardly dropped his head. “Unconsciousness and another attempt to confuse and distort myself and my husband. Wretched harpies.”
“It worked because you both drank. Your soul link means you count as one... one creature, with one desire given face and form and frame.” Discombobulation mumbled, and Luna halted in the empty hall, looking sharply over her shoulder as Scrivener stared in surprise at the Draconequus before the chimerical creature slowly sank into Luna's mane even as he thrusted a hand upwards. “Law of averages applies even to chaos. I have to make sense and be serious sometimes; if I never was, after all, then I'd just be predictably-silly all the time, and that's not really chaos at all, is it?”
Scrivener only grunted, then he shook his head a bit as Luna looked forwards, feeling a twist through her as the ponies continued onwards and Discombobulation nestled himself amongst Luna's starry locks with a mumble. Then, suddenly, Luna smiled a little, glancing awkwardly across at Scrivener and saying softly: “See? I told thee that I did not mind this shape. If anything should convince thee I am speaking the truth, then... 'tis this.”
The stallion looked back at her for a few moments... and then he finally shook his head slowly and laughed a little despite himself, lowering his head and closing his eyes as he murmured softly: “You really are a troublemaker, Luna. But I don't think I'd have it any other way.”
Luna smiled softly as they continued on through the corridors of Valhalla, only wandering, with no real destination in mind... but the simple act of moving was helping drive off the lethargy and soreness, and Scrivener could feel both his worries lifting and his body steadily beginning to regain its normal shape and form. And admittedly, Valhalla was fascinating: here he was, wandering through warrior's heaven alongside his Valkyrie soulmate, who every now and then would break into a sudden ramble as they passed familiar sights and places.
They stopped for a short rest in Valhalla's grand library, and Luna sat down at a table while Scrivener wandered the shelves. He couldn't read most of the titles unless he stopped, concentrated, and drew on Luna's memories to access her knowledge of runes, but here and there were other books written in his own language as well. But he just liked being around the books, whether he could read them or not: there was a sense of familiarity, the feeling of their stories, hidden in those pages, worlds and knowledge waiting to be discovered; of dreams and memories, captured in shapes on paper.
He returned after a little while to Luna and found her half-asleep on the table, Discombobulation now awake and alert and sitting on her skull. The stallion smiled at the Draconequus, who saluted him calmly in return: he was bandaged, bruised, and pale, but also looked like he was already starting to feel better, especially now that he was in the presence of others instead of locked away alone in a little room.
Then the chimerical creature hurriedly hid himself back in Luna's mane when a patrol of Knights strode into the library and strode towards them. They were accompanied by several bored-looking Nibelung warriors who seemed less-than-thrilled to be working alongside these borrowed forces from Odin's 'friends,' and Luna smiled wryly as she rose her head off the table. She understood all too well... if the Valkyries had still been alive, they never would have allowed 'help' in this form to enter Valhalla. Oh, allies were all well and good: but soldiers who came in to offer assistance, then turned around and expected everyone to start following the rules they set on the other hand...
Luna drove off the patrol with a few nasty answers to the questions they asked about whether or not they had seen the Draconequus. The Knights were bossy and annoying, but they were far from stupid enough to try and antagonize the winged unicorn they had been warned was a former Valkyrie, at least. All the same, Scrivener and Luna decided to get moving again, and went back to wandering the halls of Valhalla.
They eventually found their way to the blacksmith's, where Nibelung were gladly working the forges: not academic Architects, but talented warriors who worked with natural finesse and long-honed skill. They greeted Luna like an old friend and led her and Scrivener gladly to their repaired and polished armor, and Luna was delighted to find her gear in a pristine state. Her spear, too, was in good condition, and the smiths had replaced the old rawhide holster with a far-nicer one made from dragon-scale leather, a deep black with golden illustrations of the nine worlds of legend over it. They had left the rawhide holster for her, too, though, just in case... and Luna adored both the new holster, and the thoughtfulness of the dwarves in keeping the old one for her.
She half-bullied Scrivener into his armor despite the fact they had no plans to leave for a while longer yet, and the earth pony stallion grumbled a little under his breath, but nodded and climbed into his gear all the same. Luna all-but-hopped into her own as Discombobulation peered around, then slipped himself into the old rawhide holster as Scrivener watched with amusement, before he picked this up and put it on so Luna wouldn't accidentally squish him as the winged unicorn fitted her new holster onto her own body.
One of the Nibelung offered to do adjustments to their gear for them, and Scrivener winced at the thought of the armor being worked on while he was actually wearing it, but Luna cheerfully agreed, and the dwarf went quickly to work on their equipment. He was quick and efficient, adjusting plates here and there, checking the tightness of the armor against their bodies, going quickly over the modular aspects of Scrivener's armor to ensure the plates wouldn't become loose or slip free during combat.
Scrivener had to admit that by the end of the work, the gear felt tighter against his body, and somehow... lighter, or at least like the weight was being better distributed. Luna had smiled warmly and thanked the dwarf, then finally left the smith's, seeming happier and rejuvenated. Scrivener still only partly understood how Luna could find relaxation in putting large pieces of metal on her body... but he shrugged after a moment, smiling a little. When she felt better, he felt better, in both literal and metaphorical senses, so he wasn't going to argue with her. Then again, it also likely helped that the transformation had finally worn off physically, leaving him back in his normal earth pony state.
Luna insisted on continuing to wander for a little while, until they reached a large courtyard filled with strange, flowering trees and bushes that blueberries the size of fruits were growing on. Luna plucked one of these, biting into it and chewing thoughtfully before smiling in approval, licking slowly at the juice dripping long her muzzle.
Scrivener joined her after a moment, and they ate until an angry minotaur caretaker chased them off with a broom and a volley of vulgarities. Luna giggled stupidly as they fled back into Valhalla, and Scrivener couldn't help but laugh a bit himself as they ran through the crowded halls until they plowed through a pair of double doors and stumbled into a hall filled with singing, feasting warriors watched over by calm, silent golems. They were greeted cheerfully, and soon enough, the two ponies were sitting at a table with the warriors, Scrivener laughing as Luna sang loudly and lustily along with the warriors, Discombobulation peering up in amazement out of the holster on Scrivy's back as ale splashed over the table and the occasional piece of food was flung here or there.
Scrivener wasn't sure how long they spent in the feast hall: he knew there had been a lot of jokes and teasing, although almost all of it surprisingly good-natured. Every now and then, more trays of food and tankers of ale and mead had been brought in by servants and other warriors, although this wasn't always distributed with the most fairness: when one table managed to get a larger share by fair means or foul, the neighboring tables often made a point of 'raiding' the other group, usually resulting in a short scuffle and a lot of thrown food.
Luna fit in all too well: all the singing, fighting, and bragging just encouraged her adventurous spirit, and it was infectious, making Scrivener more talkative than he'd ever been, smiling and laughing along the others. Race, creed, even species, none of it mattered: they were all warriors here, warriors in paradise, sharing their stories and adventures with one another.
Luna was loathe to leave, but also was eager to get back home, and she excused herself after promising to return one day and regale them with more of her stories. She grinned as they headed for the doors, exiting the feast hall as she murmured softly: “Just like children. But in a good way, not a bad one, not like they used to be... aye, they still have fight in them. They are slovenly, and gross, and perhaps a little lazy... but they are not sloth-like, and they love Valhalla for more reasons than it is a place where they may rest their buttocks and fill their bellies.”
Scrivener had nodded thoughtfully as they'd strode down the corridor together, Luna going quiet as she looked back and forth at the architecture, the tapestries, the cases here and there that contained old trophies and artifacts. Memories whispered through her mind as they wandered the halls quietly, both knowing their hooves would find Odin eventually.
But instead of leading them to Odin, first they found their way to a small, half-hidden room near the center of Valhalla, Luna frowning a little as they strode through a narrow archway flanked by heavy, rune-covered pillars... and then she smiled faintly as they stepped into the orange-tinted light of the room beyond. The walls were brick, inset with tall stained-glass windows each depicting a different figure: forty windows that stretched all the way up the narrow cylinder of the room to the roof high, high above. Forty windows, lit from behind by gentle light, bringing back memories of people and faces long ago lost.
Luna quietly rested herself against Scrivener's side as they gazed up through the room, and then she closed her eyes and bowed her head against the side of the stallion's neck, breathing softly before she murmured quietly: “Scrivy... look at them. Captured forever in the glass... shapes, and yet when I see them, I see such distinct detail. There, Hladgunnr, and the shine of the scar upon her arm! And there, Hrist, I see the very tone of her form in those ambiguous shapes upon the window...”
The winged unicorn smiled radiantly for a moment, then she closed her eyes and shook her head quickly, bowing her head forwards as she murmured: “And of course near the top... I see Brynhild, and I see Freya. But I do not believe we deserve to be in this shrine Odin has built... for whilst my sisters have all fallen, we live on still, do we not? Oh, Scrivener Blooms...”
She laughed a little, then shook her head slowly as Scrivener only nodded quietly, gazing at her softly as he said in a gentle voice: “You are still Brynhild, but... you're a different Brynhild. You're Luna Brynhild.”
“And perhaps my old self does lay asleep with the other Valkyries then, aye.” Luna nodded a little at this thought, then she finally gazed up and smiled a little, saying quietly: “Then let us... sit here for a little while, Scrivy, in this special place... and I shall tell thee of the old Valkyries, and what I see in these glassy reflections that now hold their images and stories. Then we shall find Odin, and leave... and perhaps... thank him.”
Scrivener Blooms smiled a little at this, nodding after a moment as he gazed at her softly, all too glad to honor her wishes as memories of the life that she had once lived flooded through both their minds, and warmed both heart and mixed soul.