Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part Four (section)

===Uncomfortable Question===


Minutes later, she was sitting on the bench of the gunship, excitedly recalling the day’s activities to a patiently-listening Bjorn and the other Wolves from that morning.  “And the food!  I mean, there’s only so much you can do with mammoth, but it was still great!” she eagerly proclaimed.

Bjorn smiled slightly.  “I’m glad you had a good time at least, little pup.”

“I did!”  Freya’s grin shrank a bit.  “I was a little upset at the conditions of the town’s slaves, though.  To see such horrible conditions forced on them…”

The ancient Marine narrowed his eyes.  “How is it different from the way we employ skjalds?” he asked.

“Well, skjalds live like kings compared to the slaves I saw,” Freya pointed out.  “But…well.  I know I don’t have any real grounds to complain, either, but it’s just…new.”  She sighed.  “No slavery on Terra, after all.”  She glared up at Bjorn.  “You know, that question goes both ways.  What do you think the difference is?”

Bjorn crossed his arms over his armored chest.  “One is not allowed to be a skjald unless you were already a warrior or their child, lass.  And skjalds are well-compensated.”  He jerked his head back at the village.  “This is how our people live, lass, and have for ten thousand years or more.  Neither you nor I shall change it.”

Freya’s return glance was cool, but she understood.  “All right.”  She settled back in her seat.  “One guy nearly figured out who I was.  He was the local keeper of records.”

“Oh?  Did you tell him?”

“No.”  Freya snorted.  “He thought I was a Valkyrie.  I didn’t dissuade him, I just left.”

“Mmm.”  Bjorn thought it over before sighing in irritation.  “No harm done, I suppose.”

“I tried to keep from rocking the boat.”  Freya tugged her gloves off.  “Thanks again, Bjorn, the gloves were perfect.  And nobody even looked at my outfit funny.”

“Good, lass.”  Bjorn rubbed his eyes in a moment of distraction.  “Will you wish to come back?”

“Not to the village, no, but that little hillock over there is of some interest,” Freya said.  “Near where you picked me up.”

Bjorn glanced at her, curious.  “Why?”

“Just something that caught my eye.”  Freya shrugged innocently.  Bjorn took in the air, but found nothing wary in her scent.

“Very well, little pup, keep your secrets.”  Bjorn glanced down at his wrinkled hands.  The scars of ten thousand battles crisscrossed their backs.  He clenched one fist in a flash of irritation, but kept it well-hidden.  Freya wasn’t the target of his ire.  “We should be home soon.”



Alex was browsing his slate when the lights in the room suddenly went off.  He looked up to see Freya’s cloaked outline in the door for an instant before she closed the portal.  Alex grinned and set the slate down.  “Someone had fun,” he said quietly.

“Sure did,” Freya whispered from above him.  He was used to that by now, he didn’t jump.  Freya was somewhat disappointed.  Alex slid warm hands around her back and pulled her down to him, hugging her close.

“Good,” he said softly.  She buried her face in the thick shirt he was wearing and just enjoyed the moment, breathing in his scent and listening to his body.  She draped the cloak over them both and snuggled down on top of him with a contented sigh.

“How was it?” Alex asked.

She pulled her gloves off and dropped them on the bedside table.  “Good.  Educational.  I really liked it,” she said quietly.  She returned to stillness, one ear flush against him chest.  “Got weird near the end.”

“Yeah?  How?” Alex asked.

“Well…two or three different people mistook me for a Valkyrie or a nature spirit,” Freya chuckled.

Alex frowned.  “What’s a Valkyrie?”

Freya paused.  “Uh…it’s part of Fenryka mythology.  A divine female spirit that comes to comfort the fallen warriors and assists the Guides in taking the fallen to the Fang.”

Alex looked down at the mess of red hair and three thick braids on his chest in the dim light of his slate.  “And how did they get that impression?” he asked.

“That’s just what people believe around here,” Freya said.

She sat up on him and slid off to the side, pulling the cloak free.  Alex followed her with his eyes, curious.  “Did you do something that made them think that?”


Freya laughed again, a bit sleepily.  “Maybe the third time, but only so the stupid fuck didn’t get his skin frozen off in a blizzard.”

“What was he doing?” Alex asked.

“He and his girl were about to cross an open snowfield.  I could HEAR a blizzard coming, so I convinced them to stay put.”  Freya slumped off of him with a weary giggle.  “I wish I could take you there, Alex, there was so much going on!  I want to show it to you!”

Alex smiled and found Freya’s hand in the dark.  He gave it a good squeeze and lowered his voice, mock-serious.  “Any run-ins with the wildlife?”

Freya shook her head in disappointment.  “No.  Maybe I can go hunting with Bjorn later.”

Alex glanced over at her.  “Uh, politely refuse if he asks me to come along.”

“Pssh.  I wouldn’t let some mean old elk shred you,” she joked, squeezing him back.  She rested there a moment longer before pulling her boots and wrap off and tossing them in the hamper for cleaning.  “All right.  Big day tomorrow.  Gotta rest up.”  She stood and slid the rest of her clothes off for her shower.  “Hmm.  Where’s Remilia and Venus and Jake?”

Alex, already cleaned and shaved, just got under the sheets.  “Venus and Jake have been up on the observation deck.  Remilia’s watching holos.”

“Sorry you guys are getting bored,” Freya said apologetically.

“Well, we’re not, really,” Alex hedged.  “You won’t be gone every day, will you?”

Freya shook her head.  “No.  Tomorrow, we’re headed out to the islands, then dinner with the Twelfth in the Great Hall.”

Alex settled down on the bed.  “All right.  That should be fun, huh?”



As the sun rose, the teens assembled in the Great Hall for breakfast, long after most of the Wolves had already departed and their own workouts had concluded.  The cavernous room was almost completely vacant now, save a few skjalds scattered about the place cleaning up, a pair of Long Fangs discussing something over a map-slate in the farthest corner, and the travelers.  Freya took the opportunity to show off some of the more interesting trophies, of which the entire room was absolutely packed.

Twenty minutes later, clad in the lighter versions of their thermo gear, the boys were waiting in the lower hangars of the Fang for their departure.  Venus, of course immune to the cold, was just in jeans and a shortsleeve shirt, while the iceworlders adopted simple jumpsuits that could seal at the cuffs and neckline, in case of severe and unexpected downpours.

As they boarded the gunship de jure, Freya paused to accept a sizeable crate of supplies from a skjald that had met them there.  When Alex glanced over the box and raised a questioning brow, a secretive Freya replied: ‘in case the weather stays nice.’