Dangerous Minds

~ Something I can never have ~

I can reduce you if I want
I can devour
I'm hard as fucking steel, and I've got the power
I'm every inch a man, and I'll show you somehow
me and my fucking gun
nothing can stop me now
shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot

-Big Man with a Gun -Nine Inch Nails-

I. Heir

The young man sat on the edge of the bed, staring in rapture at the wrinkled bundle in his arms. He was oblivious of the stench of blood that poisoned the room, of the cries and tears of the matrons... he was oblivious of his child-bride's corpse, torn, twisted and open to bring the tiny life form he was now holding into the world.

So tiny and harmless yet too big for her, a child by her own right.

(... matrons... diser... take him out... not matter what, take him out!!!...)

He closed his eyes and forced her dying screams out of his mind. She had served him well, she had been a good wife and a good friend; she had been...

A child, nothing but a child

... all he had expected from her. And she hadn't disappointed him, until her dying breath she had been the woman of the clan's leader. She had been his wife.

She had struggled, and screamed and shrieked like the bravest warrior to force that life that was killing her outside of her body. And when she knew her will wasn't enough... she asked for her husband's sword.

And he had been the one to wield it.

Regardless of everything he might have felt for the little promise of a woman -lost promise- that was lying motionless and still on the other side of the bed, the important thing was his child, his first born.

The future of their clan, early conceived, early delivered, but their future still.

Fylgjukona, is this the one you will love when I am gone?

Is he my death, my end?

Is this little creature my successor?

My path was bright, but I fear the road ahead is shortening...

I am too young for him to be... what he shouldn't be...

He sighed. He couldn't remember his days as a child; he had always been... a man, in his eyes and the eyes of others. The Alberich, ruling over Jotunheim, the grand lands of the richest and most powerful clan of Asgard. For eight years he had carried the name of his father, the same way his father had done with his grandfather's and all the way down to the first generation. For eight years he had brought fame and glory to his clan.

And now, with twenty-two summers on his back, and with the faint hopes -desires- of deserving twenty years more of peaceful ruling, he stared at his new-born son in fear.

Early conceived. Early delivered.

Could as well be his death.

It had taken his wife's after all.

" Open your eyes, and gaze into your father's "

Dark words, dark meaning, dark future. Waiting for an answer. Demanding one from the small thing that wiggled in his arms, so conscious of its value as not to need him nor fear him.

A small thing that, with the cutest yawn he had ever seen complied with his orders.

Vicious green met vicious green, identical mirrors reflecting identical future.

Death in each flicker of their deceitful light.

He smiled bitterly, placing his finger on the babe's hand. The boy's grip was strong. Healthy child.

Death's child

'' My son ''

For the first and last time in his life, Alberich, the lord of the Jotuns, allowed himself to shed a tear. A single spark that slid over his cheek and fell on his son's. The baby's green eyes met his own, and his father knew that the baby had felt all the reasons behind that tear, that he had understood. Had understood all the love, hate, confusion and bitterness that his birth brought him. That his early existence delivered him.

Alberich was certain that the baby was gloating on that knowledge.

After all, he was his own blood.

'' Women... '' he said, his voice sharper than the sword that had opened the path through which the baby had been born. The matrons stopped tending to his child-bride's body and turned their attention on him. Knowing, sage eyes fixed on his own, conscious of what his words would be.

'' This is my son, grandson of my father and heir to everything I have. A motherless child birthed by his father. This will not be his house, you will not be his family. The Volva will tend to him and when she decides, he'll come to claim what's his by right. Until that day, I shall not name him ''

Until that day, you'll be Death's child

The matrons nodded in silence, sending their mental prayers to the Gods, asking the norns for a good fate, for a long life and a strong body. Asking the Norns for their lord's son to follow their lord's path and bring their clan glory and riches.

Asking for the star that shone over their family to shine brighter than ever on the unnamed child.

On their future lord.

II. Fate-child

Even when only two weeks had passed since the child's birth, Alberich couldn't imagine what his life without his son had been. Without that little thing sleeping in his arms, without those eyes -determined and intelligent as his father's - searching for his own. He couldn't imagine his life without him, even when knowing his life was doomed since his birth.

That made him hurry his journey into Nidavellir. The temptation of keeping the baby was too great. Almost as great as the urge he sometimes felt of...

Ending the life that was meant to end his world.

Ending the life that was his world.

He couldn't endure it for long, that growing desire of killing the one he knew he shouldn't love.

That was why he had to part from him. Before his love or hate overpowered the other and tied him to decisions he knew would regret all his life.

So the lord of Jotunheim bowed his head to fate and forbade his people to join him, knowing that the road would pose no threat.

The Volva knew he was going to her, she knew what he was going to take her. She would watch over them.

He left during the night, riding on his favourite horse into the dark, with his son sleeping in the crook of his right arm. He left the world he knew as his own and threaded on a path his father and his father's father had followed before. A path he had walked twice, once in the same shape as his son, as a sleeping babe in his father's arms, then as a young man, ready to take what belonged to him, with a crown of leaves around his head and on nothing but his own naked feet.

Both times the path had meant the entrance to a new world for him. Now it represented a return to an old life he had thought forgotten.

After a couple of hours and at the first sign of the ululating white owls that populated the ancient wood, he loosen his hold on the reins and allowed his horse to march freely, trusting their fate to the dark beast.

He wasn't disappointed.

The clearing was the first thing that made his memory return, the glimpses of days spent watching the tree-branches dance with the lazy breeze that turned into merciless wind outside the lands of the Volva flashing in his mind's eye.

He knew he wouldn't see her tower. He had said goodbye to it eight years ago. That night, another purpose led him to lands that most avoided.

'' You brought him? ''

Several voices had asked the question from the shadows, shrilling ones, deep ones... many of them child-like.

If there was something he hadn't forgotten about the place was the way it messed with his head. Sanity was an unknown word for the children of the Volva.

" Well? " A single, impatient voice. Her voice, demanding, terrible, powerful... ancient as the very stars.

'' I did '' he whispered, bringing the baby closer to his chest in a sudden desire to....

Keep him away from them. To save him from a future he had already threaded. Fearing... knowing... that the child that now knew only about the warmth of his father's arms would learn to love and worship the upside-down world of the Volva. That he -a part of himself, his child, his heir- would cherish that world over his own.

After all, he had felt the same way when fulfilling his part as heir of Jotunheim.

'' Let me see '' He started when a cold hand touched his arm, taking his free hand to the hilt of his sword in an unconscious movement. The hooded figure that was now peeping under his cloak did not seem to mind, whispering old words in an even older speech.

" Show me '' The figure hissed, looking up at him. Violet eyes sparkled under the shadows of the hood.

He complied. He lifted his son -his child, his curse, his heart-, his piercing green eyes opening slowly when removed from his warm haven, and offering him to the being he hated the most.

The hooded being snatched the baby from his hands and placed him against its chest with jealousy, hissing curses to the growing voices around them until silencing them fully.

'' Now let's see what the unnamed one looks like '' it whispered, pulling down its hood to stare at the observing child.

Alberich cursed himself for catching his breath. She hadn't change, she was still the same ageless being he had promised his life to almost a decade before. She was still... beautiful and horrible, all-knowing and yet so much of a fool. She was still the personification of everything that was twisted and obscure in the world.

The Volva, the seeress... the Queen of the Mad.

Her violet eyes looked him up and down suddenly, and then returned to the baby, making him feel as if she had been reading his mind.

'' He has his mother's hair '' she finally stated, pointing at Alberich's sun-like mane and then at the baby's silky hair, a red so bright that it was almost fuchsia; her childish voice escaping from far from childish lips.

You won't mention his eyes, won't you? You won't say a thing about them, about what they mean to me... you won't say a thing, because you know that those eyes are the reason I am bringing him to you, because you know there is nothing you can tell me that I already know...

'' What do you see in him? "

'' You were always an impatient soul, weren't you, my dear? Don't mind your father, nameless one, he never understood how important this is... '' she trailed off, her hands handling the baby with ease while her eyes tried to see into what fate might have stored for him.

Alberich felt like dying. At least, a part of him was. Dying. Whatever pity, whatever remnants of mercy; love and honour that he had, disappeared that day, when the one thing that could have saved him was taken away from him.

When he allowed that to happen.

'' Ah '' The woman said, nibbling a lock of her sandy blonde hair and lifting the baby over her head in triumph. '' Quite a surprise you are, my lovely unnamed one ''

Mine, not yours, never yours...

'' What did you see? " he muttered between clenched teeth, tempted to jump off his horse and recover his son. A single glance of those deadly violet eyes stopped him.

'' He will be beautiful... as beautiful as his mother should have been " And there was glee in her gaze as much as there was disgust in his.

'' Beauty is for women, not for warriors. What else did you see? There has to be something else "

She laughed, high and clear. '' Beauty is a mark of the Gods. Whether it is positive or negative, I do not know, but as any whim of the great ones, it should be welcomed, regardless of the outcome " Her eyes narrowed into burning slits, framed by her curled golden lashes '' You should know that, as I foresaw the same about you. And I was not mistaken " She began to pace around him, rocking the baby in her arms, '' And what if that is all I have to say? He is still your heir, like it or not. He has the eyes. The Goddess that made your clan famous favours him ''

'' Beauty will not keep our borders safe " he lied, unable to leave yet. Men with negative readings had protected the Jotun's lands; his son had as many possibilities as they had had.

But he is special. I can see it in the way his eyes are always aware of what is happening around him, I can see it in the way he looks at us right now, conscious that his future now lies in your hands

" Men... " she cooed, rolling her eyes, " I did see more. This child is full of surprises... he is a gift. But tell me, what is it that you want to know? "

" I want to know if he will be strong "

Enough to fulfil his chore and make this parting not be in vain

" No " The seeress frowned, playing with one of her locks in a vain manner, '' He won't be strong " Her lips stretched in the most devious smile he had ever seen, '' He will be powerful. He will accomplish what you always desired, he'll have the beauty your wife dreamed of, and he will bear on himself the fortunes that your clan longs for " Her eyes left Alberich's and settled on the baby's.

" You will be a lord, my dear, a warlord mighty and powerful, beautiful and wise. You will be Nidavellir's knight, Jotunheim's master and Asgard's mind '' She laughed, stretching one of her hands towards the shadows, '' Come, my dwarves and dark elves! Come and greet your unnamed brother! Your future lord! "

Alberich watched, enthralled and repulsed by her words, feeling his stomach clench when the homeless children the seeress had gathered around her left the shadows and approached their mistress, holding hands and dancing around her like a bunch of pixies. Dirty, deformed and mistreated pixies, with muddy feet and lost stares. With eyes as mad as the ones of the Volva.

He tried to recognise in them the faces of the children he had grown up with, but they were all too young.

Their lady had no favourites, and each one of the children that were now dancing around her and sharing her smiles would one day be sold to maintain a new horde of orphans and stolen babies. Young youths she loved, but when adulthood approached...

'' You sold Gunm and Havelok... "

The seeress looked at him without stopping her dance. The baby was not in her arms any longer, but in the ones of one of the older girls, a short-haired pale thing whose heavy breasts and milk-stained blouse were trophies of her early motherhood. A morbid parody of a woman in a child's body that would feed his son and play his mother's part.

A child raised by a child.

Not much older than my wife... not much different...

It was then when he realised that among the laughter and chanting of the forest-children, he could hear the crying of babies and toddlers among the shadows. And the girls... the older ones had their hair cropped short.

Whores.

The Lady's love was like herself, beautiful and horrible, and her people were at her mercy. For her to do as she pleased with them. To sell their bodies and their souls.

" Gunm and Havelok? But they are here, can't you see, my dear? " The seeress said, hugging two of the dancing children. Wise and Fool, replacing her people with ease, believing her love for them to be true.

And among them, his son would grow. Only because she could see. Only because of tradition...

He tightened his grip on the reins and forced his horse to turn its back to that carnival of horrors, before the wish to break the rules his family had agreed with the Gods became unbearable.

I will kill him if I keep him

He will never be what he is meant to be

I will... destroy him... no matter how much I love him...

'' Run, Alberich, run away from us and return when you are ready to see your unnamed son again! But do return... and see him ours! " she screamed behind him, the laughter of her people growing louder with her teases.

" Return so he can see into what he will turn into, and pray the gods that he likes what he sees! Pray with all your might! "

Alberich forced his horse to run faster, away from those voices, away from those threats and teases.

" Pray that he will prefer your world to mine! ''

III. Forest-child

She watched them play from the top of her tower. Her children. Her kingdom. Her army of outcasts, led by her knight. An amethyst amidst stones, shinning so much that she was certain the Gods loved him as much as she did.

As far as she could remember, no other of his clan had shone as brightly as he did. Not one.

" The Gods must have given you great gifts, my dear '' she whispered, resting her chin on her hands while allowing the cold winter wind to play with her locks. " I just wonder... what those gifts are? "

For six years she had watched over the heir of the clan that made sure her forest was safe. For six years she had read his future and witnessed her prophecies about him come true. A child he was now, and beauty already embraced him as a lover. As an equal.

But it wasn't his beauty the part that she loved the most about the little lord-to-be.

It was his mind.

He was nothing but a child, with his physical gifts already taking shape, but his mind... it was his mind the one that had developed beyond his years. With smiles and pleasantries he already knew how to get from her whatever he wanted, with sweet-words and friendly gestures he had conquered the hearts of her army of children and now ruled over them as their undisputed leader.

Bright and silver-tongued, elegant and beautiful, noble and wise...

The Seeress grinned, her eyes travelling from child to child, faces that she wouldn't remember for more than a few minutes even when their fates were like an open book to her, and their fates she knew by heart; until her eyes finally rested on her odd one out. On her unnamed one.

'' My, my, what a Jotun you could be... not like your clan, made of words and traditions, that took the name for their power and strength... but like the Giants of old, deceitful and ambitious, playing with the gods as if they were their toys... or maybe to be an Aesir or a Vanir will be your dream, your future? How much power your wise little heart will crave for, my little one? ''

[... For all he can have... ]

Her violet eyes opened wide in surprise. Rarely the voices came to her without her asking...

[... All he can wish for... ]

Rarely the spirits of the forest would tell her the Norns' wishes so clearly, so plainly...

[... All he might desire... ]

Rarely a soul would interest them enough as to break into her mind by force and whisper its fate...

[... He will want it all, blood and tears, riches and lands, power and strength... He will want to dance with the Gods and laugh with the Giants... ]

What was she raising? What was the fate of her Child of Death?

[ ... He will want to rule them all... ]

Ambition.

[ ... and your part in his life will be to guide him... to make him ours... to make what we foretell true... ]

[... to keep him on the right track... with the right wishes... to spoil him and make his ambition grow in parallel to his mind... ]

She leaned over the window and looked at him, meeting his own eyes staring at her from below.

A child.

Almost a baby.

With Death's eyes shinning as brightly as the stars. With eyes that knew everything that was in her mind.

[ ... no matter what it takes, you will make this child... Death's child... Hel's child... ]

" My unnamed one... ''

[ ...OURS-OURS-OURS-OURS-OURS-OURS-OURS-OURS-OURS-OURS... ]

The Volva laughed, placing one hand on her hips while the other one played idly with the ribbons of her bodice.

" No-name! " she cried to the children below, their dirty heads looking up to see her. Soon, the ones that had been playing with her amethyst looked at the boy instead, wondering what he could have done to gain their Lady's attention, what punishment or reward could be stored for him by their Mother.

The heir of the Jotuns didn't look away, though. He kept her eyes fixed on hers and granted her the most beautiful smile she had ever seen, to later give her a faint yet elegant bow.

Deceitful child... Loving child... what are you, my unnamed one?

What will I make of you?

" How do you find this forest, my child? ''

The boy's grin widened, sharing a knowing glance with his foster-brother, the child of the woman whose milk had brought him up healthy and strong; even when that had meant sparing that milk to her own babe, who grew to be a weak little thing, devoted and envious of the flamboyant usurper of what should have been his.

'' I like it, my Lady, and it likes me ''

'' How do you know that? '' she asked, amused.

'' Because it always tells me so, madam "

Their child

How deep does Hel's blood run in you?

'' So it does... You are always telling me that you want to learn, my dear, that you want to know all I know... Your hunger for knowledge never stops... So, will you make as I say if I tell you a way to mellow that hunger? To satisfy a few of its desires? ''

No doubts shone in the boy's piercing green eyes, no second thoughts.

'' I always do what you say, I'll always will '' Once again, the woman smiled at his way with words, at his answer... honest answer, at least for now. She wondered how much of his honesty would remain once she was through with him, when his days among her people came to an end.

Will you still adore me?

'' Then don't come back to the tower tonight. Walk into the forest and stay there until I call for you. Remember the dreams you might have while sleeping under its branches, remember the voices you hear ''

'' Remember that the forest is the best teacher you will ever find. It knows everything and knows nothing at all. Judge what you find true, disregard what you find false. And learn, if that is your wish ''

The boy's smile turned sincere. " That it is '' he replied, fixing the brooch that held his fur-cloak together before turning on his heels and running towards the forest and into its depths. His foster-brother looked at her, then to his running curse and bliss, and prepared to run after him and join him in the little adventure she had offered their leader.

She could have let him go with him.

She couldn't think of a reason not to allow him to.

It would make them stronger, with the amethyst relaying on the rock and the rock shinning thanks to the amethyst.

Jotun, Aesir or Vanir... what should I do with you? Make you a Giant, a Lord or a Charmer?

The answer didn't take long to take form in her mind.

Be everything

Lose everything

" Regin, may I ask where are you going? " she asked teasingly, her violet eyes -all seeing eyes- reading deep into the little boy's soul, '' Did I by any chance mention your name when asking No-Name to go into the forest? "

The boy stared at his feet, nervous and pale, his shadowy eyes fearing her gaze as much as they loved it. Another of her outcasts, another of her beloved little creatures.

Another of her puppets.

Future? The same future that all of them would have. The one she decided for them, the one she pleased to give them.

'' The quest I have offered No-Name is for him and for him alone ''

Hate him, Regin

Hate him, make others hate him

Because he is your lord, the lord of the winter, the lord of the Jotunheim and the knight of Nidavellir. Because I will make you bow to him and kneel to him until your knees are torn and bleeding.

You will be his test, my dear Regin, my dear child. You will help me to see what are the gifts the spirits so generously offered him. You will help me.

Because I want you to

Because I say so

Because this is the fate I bestow on you

My child

Regin nodded faintly, his shoulders hanging and his childish face gaining so much sorrow that it made the seeress feel the urge to descend her tower and kiss the little boy until all sorrow would wash away.

She laughed instead.

'' You are such a cute little thing... '' she purred, stretching her arms, '' All of you are, my dwarves and dark elves! '' The Queen of Nidavellir clapped and turned on her heels, '' I want you to dance, I want you to sing, I want music to reach the ears of the Gods! "

The children laughed at the steps of the tower and began to run through the wrecked place that was their Lady's kingdom, calling for the rest of her folk, asking for the instruments to be played, for voices to be raised.

Soon, heavenly music began to fill the clearing and echoed into the forest, maddening all living creatures and bringing delight to the Gods and the one that could listen to them.

Everyone and everything was affected by the crazed tune, falling in a state of oblivious happiness.

Everyone and everything, except two single souls.

Two little beings with fates so different and yet equally cruel.

Regin, small, tiny, sickly Regin, crying for a need for love he would never quench amidst the bushes.

And the unnamed boy, No-Name for the lady's folk, running into the depths of the forest, elation filling his body and his soul when being offered something that would start his hunger for knowledge, a hunger that would never decrease and would ever plague him.

For the rest... the world was music.

III. Sorcerer

She had sent him a dream, telling him to return, after a month of his leaving. She had expected him to return the same night she had asked him to go into the forest, but he hadn't. A month had went by, and she had asked for him, knowing he still lived yet fearing the hardships of a month in the wild would leave permanents marks on the boy, marks that his father would notice if he were to return.

She had made a pact with the first Alberich, to turn every heir into everything he could be. And she was not planning to break the pact that had brought her the freedom and power she had always dreamed for, not even if that meant forcing a change into the boy's fate.

But even when the dream had been sent, and she knew the boy had dreamt it, the unnamed heir hadn't return. Not in a month, not in six, not in a year.

Life had move on in Nidavellir and settled into its never-changing oddity; new children filling the places of the ones that were sold or died, the older children fearing the coming end of their life in the lands of their Lady.

It wasn't after two years had passed from the day that the spirits had spoken to her, that he returned. Her Amethyst.

She had dreamt of his return, and when she awoke, he was there, in her room at the top of the tower, standing by her bed and looking straight into her eyes.

A Godling.

'' Did you find what you were looking for, Amethyst? " she asked dreamily, stretching like a cat on her bed.

'' I did, Volva '' he replied, no longer the six year old boy that had played with her army, but a stranger, able to unsettle her, danger shinning behind his green eyes. He was just eight years old, she reminded herself, he was just a child, who still loved her and adored her and would do anything she said. But still... his first words had meant a change between the child and the amethyst.

No more 'my Lady'?

" Did the forest proved a good master? " she went on, standing up and pushing the boy out of her way to search for her garments.

" The Forest? " he asked innocently, his eyes fixing on her in a way that bothered her. " How could something that is mine by right teach me a thing? The Forest is my possession, all of its spirits are ''

She stopped dressing up to look at the boy through narrowed eyes.

Show me his future, Norns

Show me what he says is false

Show me everything

" The spirits are mine '' he repeated, smiling at her so sweetly that he seemed like a little light elf, shinning with Balder's light on his forehead.

But she knew Balder was not his master. She knew no light would shine on him, not once she was through with him.

The spirits had asked her to deliver him to them. The spirits had said he was theirs.

And now he was there, claiming the spirits were his.

And they were.

She could see it in his eyes.

My Giant

My Aesir

My Vanir

" My Amethyst... " she purred, kneeling by his side to look at him straight in the eyes, " Are you sure you will be able to keep them under your control? Spirits are not something to be tamed... "

" I will... if you teach me " Once again, the sweet, winning smile that she knew honest yet so easy to turn false.

" You cannot be a seeress, my little one ''

'' I don't want to listen to the spirits ''

You want to rule them

She laughed, high and clear, between child and monster. " Then I will teach you what you want to know, my little lord, I will teach you all the seidr I know. Whatever you do with it, is up to you. Now leave this room and never return to it if not summoned. That is my first teaching to you ''

He nodded gratefully, standing on tiptoes to kiss her cheek. " I missed you, Volva ''

'' So did I, my little lord, so did I ''

She watched him exit the tower from her window. She watched how the other children avoided him, how everyone moved out of his way as he walked towards his foster-brother. She watched when Regin slapped him and broke into tears. She watched Regin refuse the Amethyst's embrace and scream his mother's name. The Volva remembered her, the tired thing that had died the previous winter, sending her last breath to the Amethyst instead of offering it to her own blood.

Two years had been too long, my child... two years can change people's hearts and minds... they can change the world... don't expect them to feel the same

Don't expect him to love you

Don't pretend that you love him

Let your mind rule over your heart

You know what it is says to it? That bright and dangerous mind of yours to your beating heart?

It's telling it to stop beating

It's saying that it will kill it

She smiled when Regin moved away from the Amethyst and refused to shine by his side.

She watched him run away, and watched the boy that had been refused his name look up to the tower, straight into her eyes.

He understood.

Those who perform seidr will always be alone, my dear

IV. Jotunheim's Son

It was on his ninth birthday that he got to see his father again.

He had sent a messenger early in the morning, a young man dressed in silk and velvet and mounted on a white horse, holding the banner of the Jotuns in one of his hands, announcing his master's coming with golden words.

Not that it mattered. Everyone had already dreamt that the brave Alberich was to visit them. Or at least Nidavellir's Lady and her child-sorcerer had, and that was enough for her people.

So when the messenger blew his horn and started talking about the long lineage of the Jotuns, the Volva had laughed at him and made the children throw mud on the flaming banner.

Nidavellir was hers and hers alone, even when its safety depended on the good will of Jotunheim's Lord. She would never allow a man, a mortal thing prey of time and sorrows, to think of himself as higher than her.

She was the Gods' chosen one, after all. Only them mattered to her. Eská and Embla's sons and daughters were her puppets, her dolls.

Even the mighty Alberich with his flaming banner and his dreams of Gold.

Yet for her unnamed child, her amethyst, all her bitterness and anger had no meaning. The Volva had sent for him before dawn, her maidens dragging him half-asleep out of the hut he shared with Regin, and into the Tower, and was enjoying the news the day had brought with it.

Because he had had a dream and the spirits of the forest had whispered words of what would come to happen in his ears. Of his fame and glory, and of the man he would turn to be.

[ ... watch closely... look straight into his eyes... violate his mind... ]

The girls had led him into the lady's rooms, their voices nothing but giggles and high-pitched chatting while they proceeded to prepare him for a bath.

[ ... watch her... see how she behaves... learn the way to fool her... ]

The water was warm; the soap smelt of lavender and the foam was a caress for his skin. The girls washed him with expertise, rubbing his back and making him melt when they began to untangle his hair, the silky strands falling over his eyes like a fuchsia veil.

[... play the part they want you to... be everything they want you to be... so you can be whatever you wish to be... ]

The warmth and the misty air of the bathroom made him feel drowsy, almost as if he were in a trance. Just like that day, two years ago, when he had stood amidst the forest and let the spirits do with him what they willed. The same feeling, the same... happiness... he had felt, when the spirits approached... grew closer... showed him their claws, shouted their promises and curses... and then fell on their knees and bowed their heads to him. Everything had turned white then, as white as the foam floating on the water... and he had shone... with a light he later learned to summon at will, a light that made the spirits respect him and proclaim him their ruler.

Their lord.

Their master.

'' Our sorcerer '' cheered one of the girls, helping him to stand up while placing a soft towel around him.

He smiled at her, allowing her to dry him up while the others fetched his clothes and oiled his hair. All of them he praised, a man's words escaping from a boy's lips, and to each of them he said exactly what they wanted to hear.

He spoke to them as if they were Nidavellir's queens instead of its whores, praising Idunn's eyes, Utgard's dress, Thokk's blushing cheeks. Praising their already fleeting beauty. Of their short hair he said nothing, pretending he knew nothing of its meaning, pretending he knew nothing of the noblemen that came to Nidavellir and were pleased by the Tower's well-trained daughters.

His words were honey, and soon the girls were wishing for more, their vanity allowing him to win their souls.

[...be their leader, be their lord... ]

But even when the spirits were sincere, they were impatient, too much like the Volva herself, wanting to satisfy their vain whims immediately. He was different. That's why he ruled them all.

Hush, voices, hush, not yet, not now. My fate I will accomplish at the time I see fit. I won't fail, that fear not. Success is all I aspire for, and success I shall have.

The clothes they brought him were not the ones he usually wore. They were luxurious and jewels-studded, made of silk, velvet and silver fox's fur. A prince's garments, bought with the money the girls unknowingly made and with the treasures the warlords had given the Volva for her timely predictions.

You want me to impress my father, Seeress? What did you see as to make you believe he will want to see me like that, like Frey or Balder, when all he wants and wishes for is Tyr?

What do you want to show him as to deny him the right to see his son as a God of War?

Why are you searching for his anger?

'' What a handsome boy you are '' said Thokk, combing his hair with care. '' Beautiful like a light elf '' added Idunn, fixing a fur cloak over his shoulders. Utgard said nothing though, and with trembling fingers tied the cords of his leather boots.

Is there something in your maddened head, girl? Can you see what hides behind my eyes?

'' You don't like me? '' he asked with his childish voice and falsely innocent smile, caressing her cheek with his now gloved fingers. People were easy to win, all they wanted was to be loved, all they wanted was to be praised and cherished.

And women were the easiest preys of them all.

" I... of course... '' she stuttered, avoiding his gaze. He lifted her chin and met her sky-blue eyes. She shuddered.

'' Do you, Utgard? " Sweet and loving and incredibly deceitful.

The girl let out a whimper and moved backwards, so suddenly that she fell on her back. The two other girls looked at her, puzzled.

'' I... I am sorry '' Utgard stammered while getting on her feet, turning her back on them and leaving the room.

The boy kept his eyes fixed on the now closed door, his delicate eyebrows knitted together in exasperation.

'' Pay no heed to her '' cooed Idunn, bringing forth a large mirror to let him see their work, '' Utgard is just a fool ''

'' She's not all-right in the head '' added Thokk with the uttermost reassurance.

And you both believe that... she fears me, fears my mark... my eyes... she knows what they mean, not like you... you are the ones that are mad and helpless, falling so easily into my wishes, under my will... blinded by words... and unable to see what lies beneath

'' Nice '' he said with a timid smile, turning on his heels to look at the prince they had turned him into. He was tall for his age, and thanks to the boots he seemed even taller... older. His smile turned into a mocking grin.

[... be a God... ]

'' Would you place some flowers on your hair and join me to see my father? " he asked the girls. '' I do not want to greet him by my own ''

I want to greet him as what I am, I want to show him my possessions

That each soul in this place belongs to me

The girls giggled and scurried away, returning some minutes later with wild flowers on their short manes.

" Thank you " he said, kissing their cheeks and lips and entwining his hands with theirs.

'' Come with me ''

Wherever I take you to

Both of them were waiting for him. His Lady and owner of his soul, and his Father, the one that had brought him into life with a slash of his sword and the last whisper of his mother, standing as enemies at the gates of the Tower.

The Volva had told him many things about the Lord of Jotunheim, of his deeds, of his failures and triumphs. Of his mind, bright and fast as his own, of the knowledge that was gathered at his home, the huge mansion of the Jotuns. He had even dreamt of him, and the spirits had shown him how he looked, his fears and passions.

But now that he saw him, everything was different. The man he was staring at was proud and conscious of his strength, of his place in life. The man he was staring at was a warlord, and he showed it in every single movement of his body, in the cold way his green eyes fixed on everything and everyone.

He must have been beautiful. In a way, he still was. He was barely beyond thirty, with bronze skin and cunning eyes, barely hidden behind straight sun-like hair.

But that beauty was destroyed by the severity of his stare, by the dark robes that protected his body from the cold, by the scars that covered his arms.

Death was all around him.

On his hands, on his life, on his soul.

He belonged to Her and She was already claiming him.

She was whispering it in his ear, She was screaming it when his eyes met his father's and found them identical...

Usurper... the power you possess, the sword you wield, the title you bear... they are all mine... and you are denying me that right... you are leaving me here -you left me here-... in this twisted world that licks my feet and kisses my hands... You left me here expecting it would madden me! That it would stop me from claiming what is mine by right!

But you were wrong, father... all this world did was enhance my skills... all this world brought me...

... was clarity

'' Greet your father, No-name '' said the Volva, motioning him to move closer. She was also dressed in her best garments, with her wild mane combed and held at the top of her head by a crimson silk scarf, and the curves of her body enhanced by the bodice she wore, which made her breasts look like an offering threatening to escape from the golden confinement of her dress. Even when her madness and unnatural youth usually shadowed the Volva's beauty, that day Frejya smiled on her and made her look like a Queen of Old.

'' He came all the way from his castle to see you '' There was mockery in her voice and a dare meant for his father in her violet eyes. '' He came all the way from his castle to bring you a present ''

He released the girls' hands, walked to his Lady, smiled at her and kissed her cheek, then got on his knees to greet the man that had sired him.

'' Here I am, Father ''

Watch me well... don't forget about me...

Alberich looked at the kneeling boy. Beautiful and dangerous and so much like a wildcat that it made him feel as if he were about to pounce at him and take off his heart with his claws.

Yet not his son. He had lost that one, the little thing that would only sleep in his arms and would only take the matron's breast when knowing his father was near by, talking to him. His baby had died and from his body they had made that... monster. Nidavellir's knight.

His heir.

'' Stop looking at the ground and stare into your Father's eyes "

Same words, same wish... same fear.

The boy lifted his head and met his gaze squarely, vicious green eyes fearing nothing and claiming it all. The same eyes that had told him that he was not necessary, at least to that creature, nine years ago.

Nine years... he had left a baby there, nine years ago, a baby he loved with all his heart and wanted to kill with his entire soul. Could that boy riding between a child and a man be the same being?

" Is something wrong, Father? " That voice... Alberich could have melted in that voice. It was his father's voice speaking through the child. It was his first wife's, the boy's mother. It was the voice of all the unborn children his second wife lost year after year.

Maybe it was... maybe that boy was still his son...

" You've grown into a ... '' Strong? Was this boy strong? ... Strong enough to survive his childhood... strong enough to stand before him, with his back straight and his eyes unwavering. Yes, he was strong. Maybe not in body, maybe that the gods had denied to him... but in soul... Alberich smiled bitterly. The Volva had been right. It wasn't strength what lived in the boy, no matter how much he wanted to delude himself.

It was Power.

" You've grown into a man, my son '' he said, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders with tentative fingers.

The unnamed boy smiled and nodded, accepting his father's touch. Accepting him.

Maybe the boy could still learn to love him... maybe he could take him with him back to Jotunheim and raise him as the rest of the noblemen raised their first-borns... And maybe he could convince the Gods to stop being and let him have the life he desired instead the one he was born to live.

Alberich released him, feeling the old flames of hate and love burning in his heart with the same fierceness that had brought them to life nine years ago.

They were the same, they were trapped in the little web the Gods had knitted for them and there was no way out. The Goddess that ruled over their Clan loved them so much as to mark them forever.

He had to return to Jotunheim and leave his son behind before he cursed them both. But first he had to finish what had brought him there in the first place.

" I've brought you something '' Alberich said, his voice never wavering even when his heart and mind were battling each other with all their fury.

'' Want to repeat the same mistake twice, Alberich? " purred the Volva, walking to the side of the father and son. " Want your son to make the same mistake? "

The boy watched his father glare at the nearest thing he had had of a mother, and saw the hate that reigned between them.

Why?

You lived the same life that I am living now... you loved her, as much as I love her... what made you stop? What changed that love into hate?

...Will I hate her so? Father, speak to me...

" You might know the Gods' wishes, Volva, but you know nothing of the real world. Politics are what he will have to deal with when he leaves Nidavellir, the same way as politics are the ones that have kept him here all this time " Alberich replied, walking away from the gate and into the clearing, expecting the boy and his lady to follow him. The lord of the Jotuns hadn't ride alone, and many of his kinsmen waited for him on their horses, staring with disgust at the children that ran around them shouting curses at their beasts and threatening to leave their wives barren and to take their sons' lives away at midnight. Alberich spat to avoid evil, and led them to the cart that was surrounded by the horsed-men.

The Volva laughed and clapped, gathering her children around her and pointing at the precious treasure the cart carried with glee. The unnamed heir looked at the creature his father had brought him and understood it all. His coming, his words.

'' This is Skadi, your kinswoman and daughter of Eirik, your sire's brother " said Alberich, pointing at the small child that was sitting on the cart among heaps of treasure chests, pillows and silk. She was barely six years old, yet she was dressed, jewelled and had her face painted as a bride would have on her marriage day.

Which was not far from the truth.

The unnamed boy walked to the cart's side after the approving nod of his father and gave a closer look at his cousin. Bright and huge hazel eyes met his, framed by a crown of gold-like hair tied in two neat plaits by two long ribbons of emerald-green silk.

A doll, so beautiful and perfect as the porcelain ones the Volva kept in her bedroom.

" It is a pleasure meeting you, kinswoman '' he said, taking her small hand in his and kissing it gently.

" What's your name? " she asked curiously, her voice sweet and tender and oddly fearless.

But I can understand that... you and I... share the same blood

'' He is your cousin, that's all you need to know '' said Alberich with his severe voice, the tone making some of the Volva's children start and stare at him in fright.

Yet the girl merely nodded and smiled, bowing her head slightly to the unnamed boy.

'' I am Skadi, cousin " she beamed, " daughter of Eirik "

The Volva walked to their side, caressing the girl's cheek " That's all you have to say to the man you are promised to, Skadi daughter of Eirik? That's all you have to say to your future master? ''

The boy watched the sick delight she was getting from teasing Skadi and knew that her affront wasn't meant to the girl. It was his father the one she was angering. It was him the one she was insulting by insulting his gift.

'' Is she my bethrothed, father? " he asked, not blind to the strain his father had to overcome to nod to his question.

You know this is wrong yet you know there is no way out of it either. It is her fortune the one that will strengthen our walls, it is her name the one that will be honoured with ours, it is our blood the one that will go on in her...

I understand that, father... what I don't understand is why you thought I wouldn't...

You feel I will hate you for this

But it is an honour, and we both know it. An honour that is wrong and unfair both to her and to me. But an honour to our families... our family... and that is all that matters, isn't it?

The greater good

And it is for my own good that you bring me this child... to make me stronger... to make those that don't know me kneel at me when I leave this world you sent me to

I am thankful for this, father

Let me show you how much... and love me for it... show me you love me...

" It seems we'll be together for a long time, kinswoman '' he said to the girl, smiling. " A lifetime to share "

The girl giggled, obviously missing the meaning of what he was saying, nor what was to happen to her.

Smile while the people you know is around you, mounted and armed and showering you with gifts and praises...

But promise me that you won't cry when they leave

Promise me that

" She'll stay here '' Alberich told the Volva, the woman smirking deviously at his words.

'' You will take her gifts with you, won't you? All the pretty things that will pay for your walls '' she laughed, hugging her amethyst from behind, '' And you, my dear, will get a bride when both of you are of age... a maiden that will bear your children after you deflower her and will stink of milk and babies' faeces, just like Regin's mother did... In case she survives childbirth, that is. Maybe you'll share your father's good luck and she'll die while giving birth... '' She stared at the little girl from over his shoulder. " Skinny little thing... pretty... but her body will grow in the likes of a child and not of a woman... Her hips will be small and they will tear apart the moment your child breaks through... he will destroy her insides and be born in a sea of blood... just like you " she added, kissing his cheek gingerly, '' Like father, like son, don't you agree, Alberich? ''

Why do you anger him so?

'' You mad witch... '' Alberich started, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

" Want to kill me, Lord of the Giants? '' The Volva smiled, her army of children surrounding her and clinging to her skirts, their pleading eyes fixed on the strong sun-crowned man.

" Yet I am afraid that you will have to hack your way through my babies first... " she added wickedly, caressing the heads of the children. " ... You and your armed kinsmen are always free to try ''

[ ...watch her... learn from her.... violate her mind... and make it... ]

...mine

So he obeyed the voices and watched. Watched her as she defied his father, a small woman made of colours and shadows facing a warlord that shone like the sun, blessed by the Gods she could listen.

He watched the way each child would be willing to die for her and how she wouldn't care for any of them.

He heard her curse his father, in the name of air, fire, earth and water, if his sword but touched her. Never them, though. The children believed they were safe in her arms... Even when her arms meant...

" Hel... "

He frowned and turn to look at his child-bride, who had climbed to the edge of the cart and stared at the Volva with her hazel eyes wide-opened.

'' Cousin, is she Hel? ''

:: tell me ::

:: is she our Goddess? ::

:: the one that cursed us? ::

He blinked. That was her voice -baby's voice- ... inside his head.

His?

[... you can hear us too... you are like him... we will tell you... we will explain to you what she is... what we are... ]

Theirs.

You are mine! The same way she is! The same way everyone is! Nidavellir and Jotunheim and all that is in them is...

'' Mine '' he muttered, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the girl. She blinked. She couldn't understand, could she? She was nothing but a child... a girl, to make things worse. Brainless, and stupid, and his already.

Even if part of her blood was his own, she was not like him. The spirits might hear her, but they... they would never answer.

He wouldn't let them.

He would destroy them before giving them in to some pampered brat.

" So... is she? '' she insisted, tugging his sleeve. He smirked. Pampered brat that would look up at him for being older, for being the only link to Jotunheim once his father left. Pampered brat that would be like clay in his hands for him to turn her into whatever he pleased.

" She is the Volva " he finally answered, as if that explained it all. She nodded, pretending to understand. Then tugged at his sleeve again.

'' Will Lord Alberich kill her? "

My right, my title, my world...

He grinned, offering her his hand to help her to get off the cart. She took it and jumped; half the jewels that adorned her falling to the ground as she did so. She didn't pick them up, she didn't even look at them.

" He can't " he whispered in her ear, " The sword he is holding in his hands is nothing compared to the power of her tongue "

And it wasn't. The mighty and powerful Jotun wavered and retrieved his sword to its sheath, the blade returning to its confinement with its hunger unfulfilled.

In the end, the seeress with her words...

Empty words... empty threats...

... with her lies, had won. Would always win.

Skadi pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. " He should have killed her ''

The boy looked at her condescendingly, '' And mind you, why he should have done that? ''

She didn't doubt.

'' Because he is a Lord, and she is an outcast "

You were well brought-up, my dear cousin-bride...

You will be clay...

'' She is blessed by the Gods ''

" We are blessed by Hel '' she retorted, amused by the little game they seemed to have started.

But it was no game. At least not for him.

" That's not enough "

This time she was left without words, her huge eyes betraying her puzzlement.

" All of them? " Her eyes widened, " You want all of them "

He ignored the child and walked away from her and towards his father and his mentor.

...I have all of them, kinswoman, all the twisted gods that play with us

And they are fools, just like my father and the Volva...

" Will you be staying, Father? " he asked, pretending not to have noticed the power-struggle that had taken place instants before between the Lord and the Seeress.

Stay...

He looked at him, right into those eyes that were his own. There were no doubts that that man was his father, he could see the same desires and greed in the vicious sparks that made those emerald pools look so deceiving.

Stay... and love me... be a father to me...

" Son, I... "

Don't let this woman's world be the only one I'll love... give me the chance to love you and your world too... Don't turn your back on me, Father...

Alberich smiled bitterly, messing his son's hair. The boy laughed.

They could still be a family. There was still a chance.

" Do stay " The thick, seductive voice of the Volva broke the spell and destroyed it all with its cruel reality.

Stay...

Alberich moved his hand away from his son. His only child.

His first-born.

His Heir. Curse and Bliss.

Could as well be his death.

Father... don't make me hate you

'' I've already did all I came here to do '' he said with strain in his deep voice. " Take good care of them, woman, your life will be the price to pay is something is to befall them "

She stepped forward and closed her hand around his arm. The boy couldn't believe his eyes. She hated his father, didn't she? She hated him, and had organised all that parade of madness and horrible beauty to anger him.

Hadn't she?

'' Stay ''

Yet she pleaded to him, and her violet eyes, usually as deadly as his father's blade, pleaded with her voice.

You hate him

You showed me that

You hate him

YOU HATE HIM

" She loves him... " Skadi, some steps behind, a light elf holding her too large skirts with baby hands. Her voice had been nothing but a whisper, something no one was able to listen to. After all she was just a child, children had never something to say.

Except for the unnamed heir. Those words were screams in his mind, breaking into his soul. The woman he respected... loved... so much... the woman he had thought wise and powerful... bright and cunning... was nothing but a lie. A fake. And his father knew it.

" Let go of me, woman '' Alberich muttered, breaking free of her hold and walking away from them and towards his horse. With one swift movement, he mounted on it, his heavy black cloak dancing around him like the wings of a bat.

Run away, father

The Volva loves you

...Hel loves you

And you see our Goddess' face in the seeress you hate and love so much

So run away and forget about me, because if you don't want my love...

Then you'll have to live with my hate

Live?

The boy was smiling when his father rode by his side. Alberich would never forget the look on his face; the shudders that smile had brought him.

Could as well be your death

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To be continued...