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 Ye Of So Little Faith [TW], Frey
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide

For a week, Lydia had drifted aimlessly on the edge of the world. Each night, as she curled up beneath the foreign sky, the moon crept closer to its monthly sentencing. As the darkness around her filled with light, her once bright soul grew darker. As it sunk into shadow, a plan began to form.

Then, someone told her of this place.

That was why she was here on the full moon’s eve. Her hair freshly brushed, and her bagged armor donned and polished. Beneath her freshly-refreshed appearance her heart pounded. The heart that, under any other circumstance, would find her next actions cowardly.

Her feet hesitated, poised on a rotted railroad tress. She swallowed. Bright, tear-stained eyes lifted towards the still bright sky. Can I truly leave this world behind knowing so little of it? Tongue prodded her teeth, remembering the taste of iron and gore upon them. With a distressed noise, nails dug harshly into her opposite hand. No! I shall not fall to this beast’s rage again! I will not endanger another!

The pain lent her clarity. The texture of her scar, determination.

Around her, the forest buzzed with life. Big-breasted robins hoped nimbly from branch to branch, pecking at the bareness of winter. In the distance, a stag searched desperately for any remnants of summertime’s bounty. And yet, Lydia saw none of these things. Instead, blinded all but physically, she saw nothing but the rusted remnants of a railroad bridge ahead. It is time, Lydia. You are as dangerous to this world as that of your family. Do not allow Fenrir to lead you astray!

Thunk! Greaves thudded upon the oaken and steel bridge. For a moment, she paused to wonder anew at the structure’s purpose. It is fitting that I may meet my end upon the tracks of this great beast. A muscular hand lifted to grip a dilapidated rail tightly. Slowly, she began to tiptoe her way to the bridge’s center.

Beneath her feet, unused to such intrusion, the rusted girders moaned. The cries those of industrious souls lost. < br>
But, now it was the tow-headed woman’s turn to cry. She lifted shaky hands to prey, feet teetering on the edge of the bridge. Odin guide my soul to Valhalla. For, I fight harder than you know. Dropping her hands to her side, stroking her scarf for what might be the final time, she released the railing.

Her feet teetered on the edge.

And, yet, the young werewolf hesitated.

Tagged: ashe dermott
years old 28 posts PM
PLAYED BY Frey

Although he did not often have reason to venture outside of Mythril, every now and then Ashe liked to grab the dogs and head for one of the many nature trails that wove through the wilds. Give them a chance to really stretch their legs, get some fresh air, that sort of thing. Getting out there was a bit of a hassle sometimes, with how few roads there were, but the trips were always worth the effort, hands down.

Scenery wasn’t bad, either. Plenty of trees and wildlife, a couple of natural landmarks… There was even an old train track they passed a lot on the way to one of the trailheads, and the forest there thinned out for a pretty fantastic view of the valley below. The car was just coming up on it now, actually.

But as the last line of trees fell away, it wasn’t the bridge or the valley below that caught Ashe’s eye. Somebody was out there, in some kind of armor that gleamed in the sunlight. She had her back to him, and from what he could see, she was far, far too close to the edge of the track.

“Oh fuck—!”

The car ground to a sudden stop, jostling the dogs a bit from their places with their heads out the windows. Muttering an apology, the redhead practically fell out of the vehicle, just barely lingering long enough to shut the door behind him before sprinting for the bridge.

Shit shit shit! The woman teetered near the edge, but hadn’t jumped yet, caught by hesitation. For that, Ashe thanked whatever gods might have been listening. And despite every instinct that told him not to, he slowed down as he neared. Didn’t want to startle her into a fall, especially not before he was close enough to do anything about it.

Rotting wood and rusting metal groaned beneath him as he edged ever forward. One step, two steps… The pace was achingly slow in that moment, but he wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he tripped and ate shit.

“Hey,” he called. Just a little bit closer… Act natural. Nice and easy… “Nice, uh… nice view, huh?” It occurred to him that he really had no idea what he was doing here. He wasn’t a police officer, wasn’t a counselor… wasn’t anything, really. “Can get a look at the whole valley from up here…”

lydia magnusson
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide

She did not know how long she stood frozen above the ravine. When one faced Hel herself, time became a meaningless farce. Little meaningless ticks upon a god’s pocket watch. And yet, she knew more ticks passed by than she had originally intended. What had been a pause for prayer had twisted into one of prolonged hesitation.

Mother’s smile flashed inside her mind. Her father’s ever-bountiful laughter. The memories of a Valhallan sunrise brushed her cheeks. But she knew it for what it was: the beast’s trickery. She would not be swayed by magic tricks and siren song.

Refusing to die a coward’s death, eyes closed to the injustices of the world, Lydia opened her eyes and stared defiantly into the forest. The abyss stared back. The dark and unforgiving certainty of death. As the wind let out a wolfish cackle, her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. Fingers curled into petite fists, sheer stubbornness driving her arms upward and away from the handholds they so desperately sought.  No! I shall do my duty and rid the world of this unholy beast!!

With a vicious, almost wolfish smile, she allowed muscular knees to bend. Bright eyes fixed on the forest below, seeing all and none of it. May mother forgive me, All-Father. I know she would not understand. Someone responded. In her self-absorbed confusion, her lips formed a single word, a question. “Odin?” Curiosity drove her to pivot on one foot, the other sending her off balance as hands reached desperately for a pillar of steel. What does the All-Father wish to say? As she realized her mistake, her face clouded with an illegible expression. Suspicion. Embarrassment. Her face finally settled into its default: a thoughtless frown.

To subject this civilian to the sight of a broken corpse would be unbefitting of a Valkyrie. Her appointment with Hel must wait.

Voice guarded, Lydia turned towards the ginger-haired man. His question drew her gaze back to the valley below, its beauty laid bare to once-blinded eyes. It is a trick, nothing more! That beast shall do anything to live another moon! A sigh. “It is certainly not the ugliest place mine eyes have seen.” Though her voice spoke of winter’s cold, her eyes spoke of pain.  "I trust you did not come to wheedle thine time with pointless observations.”

Tagged: ashe dermott
years old 28 posts PM
PLAYED BY Frey
Ashe felt his heart stop in that moment, as the woman lurched, then spun, then stumbled. He’d delayed a jump, but in his timing may very well have initiated a fall instead. His breath caught in his throat, and muscles bunched in preparation to leap after her if he had to. The landing wouldn’t be pretty, but maybe he could catch them on a tree branch or—

She caught herself. Thank gods… Half wheezing out a relieved breath, Ashe slowed his briefly frantic pace to the previous walk it had been, until he reached the railing nearby. The woman was frowning at him, probably unhappy for the interruption, but he was fine with that. He’d gotten her to stop and talk. To his eyes, that seemed like progress enough. Now he just had to keep it moving.

“If you ask me, it’s one of the best little vistas, at least around here.” This one… talked funny. Well, not funny exactly, but her language was of a sort that he hadn’t heard in a very long time. At the back of his mind, he wondered where she’d picked that up.

Ashe smiled, soft and warm. “Well, not only to waste time, anyway. I did come out to talk to you, though. Seemed like you could use the company.” A hand extended toward her, not to grab but to greet. “Name’s Ashe, by the way. Yours?”

lydia magnusson
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide

Lydia continued to stare out over the valley, suddenly unable to meet the ginger man’s gaze. His odd phrasing caused her frown to deepen. “But, I did not ask?” Though cold, a hint of confusion tainted her words. “I do not understand why I would when you have already provided the answer.” As she stared out across the valley, her vision blurred with tears. Her voice, however, remained stalwart. “I have seen naught else pleasurable in this land.” Its air stank and hummed with the power of things she did not understand. This realm was nothing more than a sickly perversion of Odin’s will.

It would not be one she’d be sad to lay behind. Its people were cruel. Its culture godless. And, the only feelings she had received thus far were a strange mixture of pity of disgust. Until now. Though she did not trust this man, he at least tried to be kind.

When she next took a deep breath, the air was filled with sweetness. The hope that welled in her breast, visible in the tiniest smile, quickly vanished. Combat-hardened muscles stiffened from toe to tousle. She stubbornly set her jaw. Relish it beast. His kindness merely bought you a stay of execution, nothing more. Something in his next words clawed at the icy dam she had built around her heart.

Her tone, though it shook, grew colder. “I know of nothing in my demeanor that would make you assume such a thing.” Her hands tightened around her sides, digging between her ribcage before she turned and offered her hand. Muscles bin within her arms as she offered the stranger a firm squeeze. “I am Lydia Magnusson, youngest of Saga and Prima Magnusson.”

A heartbeat later, stubborn in her determination to despise this world and crucify her monsters upon it, she tugged her hand away. “Though I appreciate your concern, I am not in need of your company—” Blue eyes shifted to his car. A tiny, conflicted smile appearing on her face. “You may return to your hounds.”



Tagged: ashe dermott
years old 28 posts PM
PLAYED BY Frey

This one was an… interesting woman, as Ashe was learning. Took things too literally, and spoke in a manner so formal it was a wonder she hadn’t popped out of some old story book about knights and chivalry. Hell, maybe she had. He’d seen stranger things, in his time. “Well, you know. Have to really look for the pleasurable things sometimes. It’s not always easy.” A gentle, understanding smile punctuated his words. The feeling his new acquaintance described was not as unfamiliar as he’d have liked.

The smile he caught on her lips, just for a moment, the redhead took as a small victory. To him, it seemed a sign that there might be hope here yet. “Look, kid— Lydia. I…” Ashe trailed off for a moment, unsure of his words. A keen listener might have caught the curse mumbled under his breath as he raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve been here, you know. Where you are. Not, like, in a perfectly literal sense but… I uh, I’ve found myself standing on the edge before, thinking about how easy it would be to take the plunge. A few times actually. And I know I could have used a friend then.” His own calloused fingers closed around the woman’s, just for a moment. Not long enough, but trying to forcibly drag her back wouldn’t do either of them any favors just now.

Opportunity knocked. Softly, tentatively, but it still seemed to be there. “… They really like meeting new people, you know. Really friendly.” Ashe nodded back to the car, where his dogs sat staring curiously at them through the back window. “Might be better at helping you work through this than I am, too.” Once again, his hand stretched forward in a quiet offer of assistance.

lydia magnusson
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
Though taught English from an early age, Lydia understood little of what these people said. The syllables were the same. The noises were the same. She knew their meanings and their tonality.  And, yet, a tweet had nothing to do with birds nor did a like have any concrete meaning. In his phrasing, she saw another attempt by modernity to twist her teachings. Why must these people speak in such riddles!? I have had less difficulties breaking into a draugr’s tomb!

Hearing nothing in way of response, she allowed blue eyes to jump to this ginger-haired man’s face. Though her bearing remained frigid, her words were tinged with softness. This man did you no harm, Lydia Magnusson. There is no reason to tear into him like a rabid beast into a carcass. “I was truly confused by your words—” A sigh emerged from between pursed lips as she offered the stranger an apologetic glance.  “I meant no offense.”

A frown appeared on fair features, matched only in its severity by the steady raising of her brow. “I do not believe the world’s pleasure will slay the beast inside me.” It could also not be carved out with prayer or deep-seated determination. If she wished to protect this world, and her own, she would have to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Her mouth formed a silent ‘o’ as a realization slammed into her skull like the blunt end of Mjolnir. The blonde chortled, “My lord, I am not suicidal.” Certainly perturbed and more than a bit confused, certainly. But, she did not wish to kill herself , no, just the devil that lived inside. Her dry humor vanished at his painful admissions.

Whilst her tone remained solemn, the iciness in her eyes softened to that of powdered snow (as opposed to the jagged lines of an icicle). “I am sorry this world did not offer you one—” When his hand took hers, the blonde woman blushed. Outside of her elder brother, no man had held her hand before. Not even the man who had nearly taken her purity. The warmth was unnerving but not unwelcome.

Blue eyes slid to where the dogs stood at attention before panes of darkened glass. A small smile, unbidden and unwanted, threatened to play across tightly pursed lips. Only a fool would trust those he loved to a stranger. “I am certain such beasts are only half as kind as their master seems to be—" As one dog lifted its paw towards the window, she felt her heart flutter. That grey was the same grey. Those big eyes held the same childish light.

She remembered.

“Kaias. . .” Ribbons in her hair. Mussed and free. A broken stick clutched in both hands. Drool on her chin. The wolfhound who owned it dancing clumsily around her. Her first battle steed and, more importantly, her first friend.

Just as quick as it had appeared, the ghostly smile once again vanished to haunt her memories. To her own ears, her next words sounded oddly juvenile. "There is nothing to work through, my lord.” Protest or not, however, Lydia did not pull away from his hand. "This can only end one way.

Tagged: ashe dermott
years old 28 posts PM
PLAYED BY Frey

A gentle grin appeared on Ashe’s features as Lydia apologized, and he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not offended.” It flickered and faded soon after, though. Here, in talk of slaying beasts, seemed to be a clue. Given how earlier she’d had a little difficulty with figurative language, something told him that she meant “beast” in a rather literal sense. It narrowed things down if that were the case, anyway. There were a few types he could think of that had ‘inner beasts’ as it were, and that was just off the top of his head.

Quirking a brow to her protest— the very picture of disbelief— he replied, “You sure? ‘Cause it kinda looked like you were definitely going to jump for a minute there…” Unconscious to the action, his hand tightened ever so slightly around the woman’s own. She hadn’t yet. That was the important bit, especially if he could make that into a ‘never would’.

He shrugged, still struggling to appear more calm than he felt. “It happens. Not much to do about it now, but… I appreciate the ah, the condolences.”

Then, there! Another smile, another small victory. Maybe. “I don’t know. You ask me, they’re far kinder. Helped me keep going more times than I can count.” With her hand still in his, he turned to follow her gaze, green eyes settling fondly on his girls. One of the hounds even raised a paw, tapping at the window. Impatient maybe, or eager. “Looks like Fiona says ‘hi’…”

Though curious about the name Lydia uttered, he figured maybe that was a discussion for another time. There was still some convincing to do, before they could get there. “There’s always another way, Lydia.” Again, his hand tightened around hers, warm and gentle. Green eyes held blue as firmly as he could manage. “Always. I’m not good for a lot, but if you’ll tell me a little more, I’ll do everything I can to help you find what that might be. Alright?”

lydia magnusson
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
Blue eyes tilted to the horizon for a moment. His incredulousness drew a brief burst of exasperation, but such dark feelings quickly quelled. Let us not judge he who wishes to be a hero. This man acted of pure, if not misguided, intent.   A small, cool smile made its way upon her lips. Without a hint of shame, Lydia replied, “I was going to jump, but not out of a sense of defeat—quite the opposite.” The tightening of his fingers drew a raised brow and a soft chuckle. “Relax, Sir Dermott. I am not rude enough to toss myself from a bridge in the midst of conversation.” A decent knight did not seek to mentally scar her subjects.

The blonde took a moment to respond. Amid this talk of bullying, her thoughts turned to the reason she fought against her own struggles. The words of her brother, barbed like ash trees, echoed in her mind. The mudslinging and hair-pulling seemed almost pleasant when compared to the bite of Atik’s tongue. “I think the past is best repaired in the present—especially where the heartless are concerned.”  No doubt, his harsh treatment had left its mark, regardless of his nonchalance. She curtsied slightly. “You are very welcome.”

She now realized the meaning of that phrase—and saw it for what it was: passive aggressiveness.  But, any comments to that effect, were stopped by the chocolate eyes staring at her across the way. “Dogs are far kinder than most people deserve.”  As the dog waved a paw, Lydia turned slightly and returned it with flushed cheeks and a toothy grin. “She’s certainly better behaved than our hunting hounds."

Blue eyes, reluctantly, tore away from the dog. The grin twisted into a tight-lipped frown as she spoke, “If the beast cannot be tamed, it cannot exist. I will not put others in danger at the whim of some rock in the sky!” A hint of passion crept into her words, the anger directed everywhere but the man in front of her. A deep breath quelled the fire within and allowed her next words to resume some measure of calm,  “It is not a complicated tale." Rolling her sleeves above her elbow, she tilted her left arm towards him. On its underside lay a row of raised scars.

"My people call it Fenrir's Curse--" The scars again vanished beneath a sea of sky blue. “Yours call it lycanthropy.”

Tagged: ashe dermott
years old 28 posts PM
PLAYED BY Frey

Regardless of whatever reasoning Lydia claimed, it didn’t much change the fact that she had every intention of offing herself, to his mind. At least he’d been lucky enough that she was ‘polite’ enough not to do so in the middle of their conversation.

“That what you’re trying to do here, then?” he asked carefully, green eyes watching closely for her response. “Make up for the past?” By her words, it seemed possible, but then again Ashe wouldn’t be surprised to find he was still grasping at straws.

Whatever answer he received, the redhead turned to follow Lydia’s gaze as she waved toward the dogs. Tail wagging, Fiona pawed again at the window with a yip that was just barely audible from where the two of them stood. Bree joined her in the window soon after, leaving a small trail of fog as she sniffed at the glass. “She’s a real sweetheart, Fiona. They both are. I’m sure they’d love to meet you properly.” A pause, came, followed by another attempt at coaxing the woman back to the other side of the railing. “And I’d love to hear about yours, too, if you’re up for talking about them.”

Then, at last, a ragged scar and a simple explanation put the last pieces of the puzzle in place. Lycanthropy. Ashe may not have been an expert on it, but he certainly was familiar enough to be relieved to hear about it. “That, I think, we can work with.” A slow smile began to creep into place. “Not on our own, really. We’d have to do some asking around, see who we could talk to about teaching you to control it, or maybe see if a witch can help you out with some kind of magic… But there are ways to tame this thing.”

lydia magnusson
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
The woman’s face crinkled with thought—looking, for all the world, like that of a consternated squirrel. Muscular arms lifted to fold loosely across her bosom, eyes growing distant for a moment. She remembered her brother’s acrid laughter and her mother’s feather soft kisses upon her furrowed brow—and, sadly, the way it felt when she lost the warmth of air beneath her wings. A quiet noise emerged between pursed lips, “Hm.” For in those moments she saw the angry welts of a beast raised across her brother’s skin. A crime the wolf had to pay for. “Perhaps, I am--” A small frown crested her lips. “But, no future is bright with such a savage beast within it—” While a mud man like her would not live to see Ragnarok, she could prevent Fenrir from tearing her family apart.

At that yip, Lydia found her ears echoing with the remnants of a foreign sound: laughter. In all her years, she had not heard a mighty hound reduce to the timbre of a tambourine. As she spoke, though a hint of mirth entered her melancholy, her eyes remained hollow “All beasts must tremble before such mighty hunters!” Icy eyes shifted up and down the bridge’s length, dropping to the sizeable, crumbling gaps between its girders. “I am not certain this is a safe place for such eager hounds—” Even if she wished to pet their silly ears and roll about on them on the floor—she was a principled knight with values to uphold! “Mine were proud hounds of hunting and hearth—killers of bears.” Icy eyes dropped to the dog’s spindly limbs. “And, nowhere near as energetic.”

Knowing of her curse, would not blame Ashe for turning away to continue his jaunt in the horseless carriage. Such beings were dangerous man-eaters given to baseless savagery and rending the innocent limb from limb. His next words came as a shock—a fact confirmed by the agape appearance of her jaw. “We?” While his offer to help was not completely unexpected—he appeared a principled man—his exhuberant delivery was quite the opposite. He spoke of her insurmountable curse like one might speak of a hangnail or a head cold. Worse yet—in the face of her adversity—he was smiling.

Lydia was not certain if he saint or fool. When her voice emerged, it was again icy cold—and perhaps a bit indignant. “While I truly appreciate your offers of assistance, you misunderstand.” She had no plans to play host to a mindless savage. “I do not wish to tame this beast—” Her nails tightened into vicious fists. “I want to exterminate it.”

And, just like that, the dams broke.

Tagged: ashe dermott
years old 28 posts PM
PLAYED BY Frey

“Well, yeah. We.” At this point, it wasn’t so much of a question for him. He’d said he was going to help her however he could, and he’d meant it. Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that the matter wasn’t quite so simple, given how he seemed to have stepped on something of a land-mine.

In an instant, the smile was gone, replaced by an apologetic grimace. He was an idiot. An utter fucking idiot… but now was looking to be about the worst time to let that thought stick, and get in the way of what needed to happen here.

“So help me understand,” Ashe insisted, itching to try pulling Lydia into a hug as tears began to flow freely. “There has to be some other way to get rid of it too, right? Some kind of magic or… I don’t know. Something. Has to be.” Slowly, tentatively, a hand reached out again, waiting to be taken.

lydia magnusson
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
There was immeasurable power in that two-letter word. The concept of ‘we’ allowed the legendary Valkyrie to form impenetrable shield walls. It let the ever-present Einherjar to push Ragnarok from the finite limits of today to the infinite possibilities of tomorrow. In unity there was power. Though independent, fiercely enough for it to be considered a fault, Lydia recognized the power of the collective. In unity, there was also comfort. And, at this moment, that was something she sorely needed—in this strange place of horseless carriages and people trapped in windows, she had never felt more alone.

And, yet, that one little word seemed to change all that. She was no longer a shield maiden without a shield. Unsure of what to say, or how to accept such generosity, the young woman turned towards the horizon. “Your gesture is appreciated, Lord Ashe.” A pause followed. When she spoke again, her voice had thawed somewhat. “Truly.” It did not mean that the beast should live, merely that her death would not be paired with boundless solitude.

The tears that poured down her face were heated by the fire of shame. Thou art a shieldmaiden! A member of one of the strongest families in all of Valhalla! And, yet, you bawl before a stranger like a child! She lifted her arm to wipe her face against it and muffle the sobs that threatened to spill out. “I do not know! Valkyries do not—!” Her voice hiccupped. Her head shook wildly from side to side as her fists tightened further. “They can not-!” Finally, an admission emerged in the form of an icy snarl: “It is a disease reserved for filthy little mudmen.” Fenrir’s curse was just further proof that she had never been part of the ‘we’ at all.

Finally, Lydia lifted her eyes to meet those of the kindly stranger.A man like this one is too kind for this twisted, modern world. Though her chin was lifted high, almost haughtily, there was a visible tremor to her lips.

Though she did not take his hand, Lydia took a shaky step away from certain death. Such kindness should not be rewarded with treachery. The beast could die another day.

Tagged: ashe dermott
[/QUOTE]
years old 28 posts PM
PLAYED BY Frey

Another smile— smaller and more sedate this time, now that he knew better. An attempt to show sympathy, and maybe a bit of empathy too. Seemed like Lydia might sorely need both. “It’s—“ Nothing? No, that didn’t seem quite the right word here. What he was doing, or trying to do, was not nothing. Not the least he could do, either. “— no problem. I’m happy to offer it.”

Tentatively, worried she might smack it away again, Ashe allowed his hand to settle lightly over the young woman’s shoulder as something of a tether between them. A means to ground them both. “There’s nothing wrong with being human, Lydia. They’re an amazing bunch, capable of some pretty fantastic stuff.”

A step away from the ledge, and hopefully toward a solution. The hand on her shoulder squeezed gently while Ashe motioned with the other toward his car. “Come on. We’ll get this figured out, one way or another.”

lydia magnusson
years old 16 posts PM
PLAYED BY dynasty
Tearing her eyes from the horizon, she lifted her eyes to those of the ginger-haired man. Even though its melt had left its trail down her cheeks, her icy countenance remained intact. For a moment, she struggled to find the proper words. Something that might convey her conflicted gratitude, her guilt, and her inner turmoil. But, she was neither her brother nor a politician. Unsure of what to say, she said nothing.

Though she stared at the offending appendage, Lydia made no further attempts to remove his hand. Though the gesture was meant to calm, it only increased the volume of her sobs. Teeth clenched down more tightly upon snow white skin. A noise of frustration bubbled within her throat. "Nngh--!" The taste of iron soon joined that of tears and sweat.

She had spent her life training to rise above her humble lineage and a single bite had proven it all for nought. She would never guide a worthy soul to the halls of Valhalla. The weight of her father’s pride would be forever lost to her. A single word, bitter and venomous, rose from her chest: “No--!” She continued her voice calmed, “They are not capable of what I need them to be. Only the einherjar—!” The shieldmaiden paused. A hand moved to rest upon the pommel of her sword.

She understood now. The all-father had sent this stranger to her for a reason.

Tossing a final glance towards the horizon, Lydia set her sights on the nearby horseless carriage. Lifting her tear-stained and bloodied chin, she took a few dozen steps towards it. As boots brushed verdant grass, she turned to face her saviour. A smile—perhaps a bit maddened--played at the edges of her lips, “I am certain that we shall, Sir Dermott.” The all-father would not have sent you otherwise.

As she drew within a yard of the vehicle, the woman paused. Her normally steely gaze filled with a hint of trepidation. “Doth your steed have a name, Lord Dermott?” Perhaps she could reason with the metallic beast.

Tagged: ashe dermott
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