Free Valkyrie Slumbering by L. VanHorn

“I’m goin’ to take a wild stab here and guess ye aren’t a full-blooded human yerself.”
    An almost begrudging respect gleams in Steinn’s eyes as they cut toward Grím. “Right you are, half-elf. My father was Jǫtunn. Which means this is my world, not yours.”
    The lump that forms in my throat nearly chokes my breath off. Jǫtunn from Jǫtunheimr, one of the three earthly worlds. The name literally translates to ‘giant’. Looking the man over, suddenly it all makes sense. The Jǫtun have hated the Alfhiem since Odin and his brothers slew Ymir and the frost giants and created the earthly realms from Ymir’s body. At least, that’s the way my mother had told the legend to me.
    The men behind me start to close in. I point my sword at one, giving him a look that should stop any sane man. It works, for now.
    “Why open the door, Steinn?” I demand, growing weary of this talk. I long to see blood on my blade, his blood.
    His piercing eyes fall upon me. “To let in Loki’s pets and prepare for Ragnarök , you daft wench,” he says.
    Something like a growl issues from Grím. I give him a pleading look, and he holds his ground.
    “Why did ye kill me parents, her father? Was it just for sport?” Grím asks.
    As his eyes dart back to Grím, Steinn’s upper lip curls into a snarl. “Partly, yeah. But mostly because my Lord wanted me to bring you two together, and I knew if you were both hunting me, well then, you were bound to find each other,” he says through a huge, almost maniacal looking grin.
    A sound close to a whine comes from one of the men behind me. “Can we take her now, Steinn?” one of the men says.
    The other behind me cackles. “Yes, I want to pump that pretty little ass,” he says.
    Steinn laughs, eyes on me. “Filthy dogs. They’ll ride anything, even an Alfhiem.” His gaze shifts to one of the men behind me. “Have at it,” he says.
    Grím roars in fury and lunges my direction, only to be intercepted by Steinn. Much as I want to leap to his aid, I can’t. Movement at my back forces me to turn.  
    From above me a sword hilt descends. I duck and dodge sideways. The brute shifts his movement, swinging an elbow in my direction. Dropping low, I easily avoid the blow and slash out with my dagger. The short blade slices through the man’s boots and bites deep into his calf. A feral scream followed by a colorful curse erupts from him. Another blow comes from a second man to my right, this one an actual blade swinging at my shoulder. The blow is slow, though, as if he doesn’t want to do too much damage.
    Of course he doesn’t, the bastard. If they thought with their heads instead of their cocks, they might actually be a challenge.
    I laugh as I raise my sword and block the blow. “You’re making this too easy,” I say.
    With a flick of my wrist, I spin my blade around his and fling it away with enough force to send his sword flying. As his arm is thrown wide from the momentum, I thrust my sword straight into his chest. His leather armor offers little resistance to the razor-sharp point. Turning, I see a hand coming for my shoulder, the other bringing a sword hilt down at me, again. That he can still think of raping me instead of killing me after I’ve gutted his companion speaks volumes about his intelligence.
    I step to the side and bury my dagger beneath his armpit. His eyes widen, his mouth drops open. The surprise on his face almost makes me laugh. Before pulling my dagger out, I twist it. Warmth washes over my hand. The moment I pull it free he collapses in a heap.
    Steel ringing upon steel draws my attention back to where Grím is. Two warriors lie still near his feet and he’s battling Steinn. From the sweat on Steinn’s brow and the fear in his eyes, it’s obvious who is faring better. A nauseating mixture of elation, relief, and jealousy floods through me.
    Stepping over the twitching bodies, I dash toward Grím. My movement draws Steinn’s gaze. Rather than look