Exams over. For now. They'll be back for real in a few months. Anyway, enjoy the new chapter.
--------------------
[X] Text Marie, let her know the situation, and get her input before doing anything else.
--------------------
You think about it for maybe ten seconds, and then you realize that you're in a terrible condition. While you're confident about your bluffing skills (you are THE MASTER of lying), you're not so confident that you can pull it off right now. Better to just push the responsibility to Marie.
You pull out your mobile discreetly and start texting. Your fingers are numb, and still bleeding slightly from when the were-bird scratched at you. Nevertheless, you're a pretty fast typer.
"I'm @ door with bird an singer. Bird bcame man can talk said singer wants you, bt cant get in house. Usng me to get to yo"
You press send just as the birdman snaps the phone out of your hand.
"What's this?" he asks, eying the device critically.
You shrug your shoulders. "Nothing."
He stares at you, hard. You meet his stare evenly.
Then he crushes the phone like a snowball in his hand.
You stare at the rubble. Oh. Seems like it could be killed after all. You're surprisingly mournful.
"Call for the female. Right now."
You sneer at him. "Chill dude, she'll be here." You don't want to rush her in case she's making plans or something.
If you thought his glare was hateful before, man, this glare is like an abyss. Stare into the abyss, and the abyss stares back at you. And maybe eats your soul while it's at it.
He's all bark and no bite though. He's not going to kill you before Marie gets there.
If worst comes to worst, you think she would sacrifice herself for you. At this point, you're so beaten, you wouldn't really care if she did. You just want to get inside, get warm, sleep, eat, nurse your wounds. You can be emotional afterwards.
The birdman pinches his nose, letting out a sigh. His hands are slender and pale, like the rest of him. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a Jotun prancing around in the horizon. I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible, please."
The please is so surprising, it takes you a beat to realize he's talking about the giant. So it's called a Jotun? Well, good to have a name to put on your nightmare. Out of all the things that've happened today, the thing that hit you worst, is the sight of the giant, the Jotun. You can actually still see him, right there in the horizon. He's like a mountain, except this mountain might move and step on you.
"What, he's not your friend?" you ask sarcastically.
The birdman does not smile. "This is Ragnarok, boy. Nobody are friends."
Ragnarok. Wait. You thought they weren't from earth, but you definitely recognize that term. It makes sense, but at the same time it's utterly impossible. "Are you fucking with me?" You laugh hysterically. "This is Ragnarok? As in, end of the world? Norse mythology and all that shit?"
The birdman looks confused at your outburst, but concedes, "More or less."
You don't get to pursue that topic, because at that moment, the door opens to reveal Marie, flanked by a nervous-looking middle-aged woman with a grey pixie-cut.
The thing about your sister is, that she usually doesn't show much emotion. You've gotten used to interpreting the little signs: she fidgets when she's nervous, when she's angry, she just looks at you with slightly narrowed eyes, a look you've given the endearing nickname 'the stink eye'. But otherwise, her face is like cast in marble. Her smiles are always disturbing, and always fake.
She's shown more expression today than you've seen in years. Nevertheless, the smile she's sporting right now is as fake and skin crawl inducing as always.
You're not sure why she's smiling right now. Maybe because of habit. When you open a door, you smile.
Her smile disappears when she looks at you. "Your ear," she mutters.
"It was sacrificed for a good cause," the birdman assures her. You glare at him.
"That guy over there ripped it off," you explain. "And this guy ate it. This is the birdman."
"Valraven," he corrects you. "But anyway, female… what was your name again?"
Shit. "Misse," you say hastily. "Her name is Misse, remember?"
Marie looks at you. "Yes… Frede. That is my name."
You smile stiltedly. Well, great. You are now both known by the hated nicknames your grandparents gave you.
The middle-aged woman next to Marie looks confused. "I thought your name was-"
Marie clamps down on her arm. "I'm sorry, Katrine, can you go inside for a second? Thank you."
Katrine does not look very pleased. Nevertheless, she retreats further into the house. A few seconds later, you see her rotund face appear behind the lace curtains in one of the windows.
The Fossegrim elbows the Valraven and says a bunch of nonsense. You hear Marie's nickname mentioned several times.
The Valraven sighs. "Misse, I present to you this Fossegrim, who wishes to court you. His name is Bjellelet, son of Bellelen and Billa. He's from Ydalir, in Alfheim and…" The Valraven turned back to the Fossegrim and exchanged a quick word. The Valraven looked skeptical. "He claims to have impressed Ullr with his skiing."
Marie looks… a bit overwhelmed. "Oh," she says flatly.
"He also apologizes for his lack of attire. But he prefers it this way."
"… Oh."
The Valraven stares at her, waiting for an answer. When he gets none, he adds, "Also, I'll eat your brother here if you refuse the Fossegrim."
"I would prefer if you didn't," Marie admits. "But… Some sacrifices can be made."
You frown. Is this her plan? Pretend you don't matter to her? That is not going to work. You're pretty sure the Valraven will gleefully eat you, as soon as your worth as a hostage is gone.
Thankfully, the Valraven doesn't buy it. "You care for him. I'm not stupid."
"He's… annoying. He thinks he's so smart, but he's stupid and childish. I care for him, but I care more about myself."
Wow, that actually cut deep.
"If you kill him, I'll slam the door," Marie said. "If you let him live, I guess we can talk. But you'll need to do more than just that, to impress me."
The Valraven translates this for the Fossegrim. Bjellelet, you suppose. It's hard to think of him that way. He looks like he could be the lead-singer in a boyband, an Alex or a Louis, not… whatever the hell a Bjellelet looks like.
Bjellelet — you'll just go with that — frowns and says something to the Valraven.
"Is there anything specific you want him to do?" the Valraven asks.
Marie smiles. "As a matter of fact, there is. I want him to get my luggage for me. "
The Valraven blinks. "Your what?"
"The stuff Frede and I brought with us. I want him to go get that."
The Valraven relays. Bjellelet smiles and gives Marie an air kiss. She looks vaguely disturbed.
"Your future husband agrees to the terms," the Valraven says. "We'll be off then."
Marie raises her hand, stopping them. "No, I want him to go alone. You two stay here."
The Valraven looks suspicious. "The Fossegrim has never seen your luggage. He'll have trouble recognizing it."
Marie shrugs. "Well, therein lies the challenge, right?"
The Valraven looks less than convinced, but Bjellelet laughs. He exchanges a few sentences with the Valraven, and then he's off.
You look at his receding back until he's out of eyesight. As though that was a signal, Katrine suddenly appears in the door opening again. She's wielding a frying pan now.
"So, Valraven," Marie says lightly, as though they're just having a friendly little discussion while waiting. The tension utterly belies that though. "I never did catch your name."
"I never said it," he deadpans.
"Is there any particular reason why you're helping Bjellelet?" Marie asks.
The Valraven's grip on your shoulder tightens. "His skill is useful. I need a steady supply of human flesh in order to retain my form. He can supply that. Thus, our partnership."
"Oh. Well, that's unfortunate," Marie says. "I suppose there's nothing I can say, to turn you against him then?"
Marie and Katrine step out of the house. Marie, you notice, has been holding a kitchen knife behind her back the entire time.
The Valraven eyes the knife. He looks unimpressed. "Not really, no. Unless you'll give me the boy's second ear?"
"No." Marie says flatly.
The situation is not looking good. Marie seems to have made up her mind to solve this with violence. Personally, a fight is the last thing you want. The way things have been going for you lately, the one who'll end up stabbed is you.
But how are you going to stop this?
[] You step in front of the Valraven and tell Marie to stop. You can solve this peacefully. Probably.
[] You don't. It's three against one. The Valraven might be immortal (or undead?), but he can still be fought off.
---------------------------------
I realize I haven't been very... generous with characterization so far. I hope this makes up for it. Their personalities were always planned out, I just wasn't sure when to drop them.
