Down in the Valley (Þórodda)

[Faerydae Moriarty]

Dark clouds rolled across the lands of Albion, while not at an alarming pace, they did seem to set the mood. They were not of light gray, but of deep charcoals and even approaching the dangerous color of black. The rolling thunder could be heard loud and wide as a flash of lightening broke through the sky, cracking it into halves for the briefest of moments. Perhaps, it was a message, a foreboding sense of danger that was to come in the new future of Albion’s history, or perhaps even her own. Rain never scared her though, and neither did the thunder. There was something comforting in the lulling sounds that it made, and often she wondered if the ocean sounded like the calming sounds of thunder as it moved across the lands, very much like water before it brought itself a tidal wave of rain to cool the lands of its hatred and dread. As another crack of thunder could be heard over head, the young maiden knew that the rain would be coming soon, but she would make no move to move for the gods had intended that not to happen right now.

The maiden in question is an exiled one. In many ways, perhaps this particular moment in life may have been something that she had deserved. No doubt, more spat from King Janus of Balor, although, he did not even really know if she were still alive or not. To anybody, she was a ghost among the lands of Albion now. Always was she careful to cover her tracks and stay off the main roads, not just so she could stay out of sight but to also avoid the main travel. Between kings and queens, and all of the land divided, wanderers were not always the best people to trust. It was a dangerous world out there, and nobody was to be trusted. Although, in her line of history, Faerydae Moriarty, found it hard to trust any being unless it whinnied and neighed. Being an exile also meant that one was of a different status; one was not just a wanderer, alone and unwanted, but a tarnished person. Everywhere that the young maiden walked, she felt as she was being followed by a branding, stating who she was and what she had done.

Her betrayal was still the talk of the kingdom of Balor still; a dangerous affair was something almost unheard of for kings and queens, especially with that of a slave. Talberon had been no slave though, he had been an equal long before she had been queen of Balor, wife of King Janus. Her actions though had brought the end of two lives that were held precious to her, and with that, came an ugly reputation that men seemed to love to try and force upon her, but they did not understand. What she did was out of love, an uncontrollable love that bound to both her spirit and body, and simply not just out of lust. Faerydae’s ice blue eyes narrowed at the grass for a moment and watched how it bended to the will of the wind without any argument. It danced and moved its tiny blades in a surrenderer’s dance, but the wind would not back off, not with its master telling it to blow harder. Her eyes glanced up now, “Do you think I am but a blade of grass Silver? So easily overpowered?”

The recipient of the question stood still in the billowing grass, still as a statue. The wind tousled with his wild mane, blowing it everywhere and for once revealing the darkest of amber eyes that stared back at her with all of the knowledge in the world. The great white horse was always with her, and it only left her on occasion. He was free to roam and go as he pleased, for Faerydae did not own him nor claim herself as his master. She let him be, and perhaps that brought them to an understanding. Silver took a step forward though, and Faerydae almost imagined hearing the earth groan with each step of the white horse as his hooves hit the ground. Lowering his head, the velvet muzzle brushed up against her calf and against one of her newly earned bruise, causing her to wince for a moment. Ice blue eyes stared hard at her beaten legs for a moment, if it had not been for the horse to come back to her, those men along the roads might had killed her for her speed had failed her. But that was what she did, either run or let it happen because she wasn’t strong enough to take them on.

Feeling those eyes on her now, Faerydae simply ignored Silver as the sound of thunder came again. She did not need his sympathy nor that all knowing look. Instead, her eyes just locked in on the grass now and they didn’t move, “I guess you do,” she murmured now in defeat. The presence of the horse stood before her for what seemed like centuries before he moved away and trotted up the hill, appearing as if he were floating on air. No sooner than the horse moved away now, a sigh escaped her as she leaned back and laid in the grass, her gaze staring up at the dark clouds now, listening to the thunder. The first rain drop fell now and there was that freshness in the air that came to her nose as another droplet fell and hit her cheek before it started to roll off. Her hand slid in the grass for a moment, her fingertips resting on the hilt of a dagger now which brought back her painful memories now. A sigh escaped her as she pushed them back into the darkest corners of her brain, “Roll of thunder, hear my cry…” she murmured softly now, the words carrying hidden meanings that not even she entirely under stood.

Above the girl and standing on one of the hills now, stood the white horse. The wind made his mane and tail dance in the wind as if it had its own mind. His ears twitched at every sound of thunder that came across the lands as he stared out at them. He did not fear humans like some of the others did and was one of the few who left the wood out of his own free will. As Faerydae lay down in that valley now, Silver knew that he was her only means of protection and he stood there on the top of the hill like a dangerous statue as the rain droplets started to fall. This was no place for them to stay, but the woods were not in sight for now it seemed. With the winds came a scent in the air now, and the horse’s nostrils flared as it hit him. Back down below, Faerydae craned her neck slightly so she could look back up at her companion now. His ears flattened against his skull, giving off the impression of a dangerous statue before he stomped his hooves and took a few steps back into the valley.

Somebody was coming.

Tags: Þórodda
Setting: In a Valley, out by the country side

[Þórodda]

Þórodda, having heard about a group of bandits plaguing passer bys, had decided to take a moment out of her busy schedule to wipe them all out. To that end, she had walked up and down the road twice already, all by herself, hoping to be targeted, but the bandits either hadn't seen her or had decided not to attack such a heavily armed and armoured person. The next step was, naturally, to track the bastards down in their own territory and so she had hired a poacher to find and follow their tracks. The snivelling coward led her right to the bandit's camp and then vanished before any of the fighting could take place, not that he had been needed. The bandits had been in a sorry state, almost too drunk for words, with what appeared to be a couple of broken limbs. She wasn't sure if they fourth man had even registered her presence by the time she cut him down.

At the thought of the battle, Þórodda shook her head in disgust. The bandits had been amateurs, not even bothering to post a lookout. From the relative dearth of valuables and the age of the rumours that had sent her on the hunt, Þórodda decided that they must have only been way laying travellers for a week or two at the most. Curiously, though, several of the bandits seemed that have been attacked not long before because, when Þórodda had stripped them to look for valuables, she had noticed several large bruises just coming to the surface of the skin. She was probably wrong, but it looked to her as though the men had been ridden down. What kind of idiot didn't get out of a horse's path when it was thundering towards you?

Lightning split the sky and thunder boomed, rolling along the ground and turning Þórodda's thoughts to the weather. Dark, angry clouds covered the sky as far as the eye could see and lightning had been flashing eerily for a good few minutes now. Þórodda brought her right wrist up to her lips and kissed the hammer shaped gold pendant, an almost involuntary action. She was sure that no one else used her little ritual, but it seemed right to her. After all, how could Thor not look out for a warrior such as herself? She was his spitting image in so many ways and, most importantly, helped defend the weak in the same manner that Thor protected humans from the giants. And so, Þórodda told herself, that was why she had never been struck by lightning.

Exiting the forest and reaching a large hill, Þórodda felt the wind snatch at her hair and try to shove her forward. She resisted stubbornly and started up the hill at her own pace, deliberately ignoring the first rain drops that wet her hands and armour. Soon, Þórodda knew, more drops would fall and she would be soaked to the skin. It was, of course, possible to turn back to the relative comfort of the woods, but Þórodda didn't want to have to backtrack all the way to the road. At least if she kept going this way she would reach a town in an hour or so.

Þórodda suddenly felt as though she was being watched and glanced up at the top of the hill. Something white disappeared below the crest and, under the eye guard of her helmet, Þórodda's eyes narrowed and she readjusted the grip on her axe. There could be a perfectly innocent explanation for what she had just seen, such as a wild animal or a scared shepherd, or it could be that there was someone hostile to her over the crest of the hill. Without knowing exactly what was waiting for her, Þórodda had to proceed cautiously, angling up to the right side of where she had seen the movement. Hopefully she could reach the top before whoever it had been decided to risk another peek.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

Her body sensed slightly as she watched the white horse as it lingered below the crest of the hill; his ears still flatten against his skull. Faerydae did not know on what to think at the moment, surely there could not be more bandits already. Quickly, she rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up, curling her feet and legs under her and sitting like an animal as her ice blue eyes continued to watch Silver. The white horse was remaining still, listening careful as his great tail swished in contemplation of what to do. The young woman would have hoped that perhaps whoever had caught the horse’s attention would have moved away, but that did not seem to be the case. Above them, the thunder cracked across the lands again and illuminated the skies and Faerydae found herself closing her eyes, and listening hard to the world around her. Every second a deep breath escaped the horse, the low rumbles that came from over head and the rain droplets hitting the ground softly as well as steel.

The recognition of the hard surface made her nervous and her eyes open now. Whoever was coming had the means to protect themselves and while Silver was a dangerous animal, the white horse, regardless of size, power, or experience, was no match for an armor clad individual. She glanced towards the top of the hill now, trying to judge her best idea for now. To stay and hope that nothing would happen or run and leave everything behind. Her eyes glanced to her supplies for a moment, the pack with what little food she had, as well as clothing and fur for trading. The fur was the main concern for Faerydae at the moment since it was how she kept her survival out in the woods and with the people of Albion. The thunder rolled again, and a loud crack broke her from her thoughts as the wind picked up again, blowing her blond hair astray now and the rain began to fall a little more. It was not safe for them to be here, the valley was too open. Even with the thunder, the young maiden felt almost certain she could sense the heavy steps of armor making its way up the hill.

A loud snort escaped the white horse now. His breath releasing out into the air in a moisture cloud as he stomped the ground defiantly. His ears continued to remain flat against his skull as his dark eyes stared at the hill. The scent of the approaching individual was growing stronger now and Silver pranced slightly in place, readying himself. The horse’s nostrils flared in the approaching danger, his hoof striking the ground in a frenzied excitement and uprooting the grass, and he could hardly stand still with each step the individual on the other side of the hill took. This was what a bond between human and beast was, an undying love of trust and respect that put the horse in his place, that made him wish to protect the young maiden from below ever since he spotted her in the woods four years ago ready to end her life. As another sound of thunder crashed above, Silver used it to mask his sound as the white horse leaped forward and hit the top of the hill. As his hooves hit the ground, the white horse turned his head and caught sight of the armored stranger and let out an ugly scream and let out a wild kick off as warning towards the stranger.

She felt the earth groan now as Silver leaped forward, his hooves digging deep into mother earth’s lands. Faerydae was only hesitant for a moment before she heard Silver letting out a dangerous war cry towards whoever it was on the other side. No sooner did the horse’s scream end did she jumped forward and began to descend up the hill. Her body was still sore from her earlier attack, but that did not matter at the moment. She needed her horse, and his death would not ensure her survival. The rain droplets slowly grew a little faster now, making the grass wet and slippery right as hit the top, almost losing her balance in the process. Ahead of her, she caught sight of the great white horse tossing his head with his ears pinned back, but thankfully, for the time being, he had resting himself a few feet away from the stranger. Ice blue eyes glanced over towards the other for a moment and Faerydae already felt her panic swell up in her chest. The individual in question was certainly taller than her, and almost protected to the bone. She could not imagine fear ever coming across this individual’s mind as her eyes fell on the tightened grip on the axe. Silver was placing himself into provoking a death trap and she found herself nearly rooted with fear.

No sooner than did Silver raise himself into a rear and standing on his two hind legs, his front legs reaching out wildly as his hooves sliced through the air, and he took a step forward did Faerydae move forward towards the animal. Perhaps it was adrenaline or fear, but somehow, closing that distanced seemed to hardly be anything for the young maiden as her hand outstretched and grasped a chuck of the white horse’s knotted mane towards the crown of his head and with what little strength that she possessed, she yanked hard. The move caught the white horse off guard as his head and neck was forced to turn and he found himself losing his footing quickly. Silver was quick to catch his balance though unlike the young woman who felt herself tumble and threw out her hands to catch her fall now, and she felt her body complain from the action. Wildly, the white horse stared at her for a moment before glancing back to the other individual now and made an ugly face and made a step towards them, but Faerydae was ready now and she leapt to her feet again, putting herself between the horse and the other now, “You can’t fight that person, it’s nothing like that group of bandits,” she hissed at her horse as he tried to dance around her, “We have to go.”

She glanced over her shoulder towards and tried to ignore the fear that made her want to root her feet to the ground as she stared at the battle axe in their hand.