Maya did not expect her boring Friday night walk to conclude with finding a Valkyrie battered in the bushes near her apartment.

How did she know the woman was a Valkyrie?

Well, different question.

How often did you find someone falling from the sky like a shooting star? With swan-like wings on their back, Norse armour shimmering in and out of existence, and their body covered with bleeding slash marks?

The answer?

Not so often, unless it happened to you regularly—consider questioning your lifestyle choices then.

Maya was pretty desensitised or rather unfazed seeing a real-life supernatural woman—since she lived in the modern world and read fantasy and all.

Still, the sight took her breath away.

Though bruised and caked in blood and dirt, Maya couldn’t help but stare.

The Valkyrie lay in the bed of bushes as if she was sleeping.

Her pristine white and short dress—though dotted in red and torn—was shimmering and contrasting beautifully with her dark skin and toned body.

The dress was sleeveless, held only together by a brooch on her left shoulder. It only reached as far as her knees, showing off her strong legs.

Groaning, the Valkyrie stirred in the bushes, her platinum blond hair falling over her face.

Maya shook herself out of her reverie and trudged through the thick, thorny foliage.

“Don’t worry; I’ve got you,” said Maya in false confidence, struggling to get the mysterious warrior woman out with a less-than-helpful Rautek grip. “Oof, you’re heavy… or I’m weak. Shouldn’t have skipped my New Year’s resolution to hit the gym.”

Passing a flock of ducks, Maya was glad that the usually barbeque enthusiastic neighbours of her apartment complex weren’t outside.

She didn’t have the time or energy to explain why she had a bleeding and unconscious woman dragging through the paved streets and up a slope.

“Cursed stairs… hang in there,” Maya grunted and sent a heartfelt thank you to the heavens that her apartment was only on the highest floor. “God forbid we don’t leave a blood trail behind, huh?”

Maya laughed and glanced at the unconscious yet gorgeous stranger. “Right, sorry.”

Entering her apartment and into her bedroom, Maya laid down the Valkyrie over the soft and freshly cleaned sheets of her bed.

The Valkyrie hissed but reclined against the duvet, as she couldn’t move. Maya contemplated first calling an ambulance, but in retrospect, it might not end well. Thankfully, she had enough first aid equipment at home—meaning she had enough clean sheets to use as bandages and antiseptics.

Maya struggled to keep the protesting Valkyrie in place, who revolted at getting her wounds treated. So Maya resorted to the only thing she could think of in that situation.

She sat down on the Valkyrie.

“Stay still, or it will only hurt more!” Warned Maya and clenched her thighs around the Valkyrie’s midsection, keeping her in place.

She leaned forward, brushing away the wavy hair and cleaning the cut on the forehead. With each dab, Maya found more sun-kissed freckles and couldn’t help but count them.

She dabbed the woman’s full lips and then washed off the dark makeup on her eyelids—which fluttered lightly open to gaze at Maya.

Amber eyes that shone like gemstones stared into Maya’s own rich blue eyes. She was lost in them and felt the Valkyrie's arms softly wrap around her waist.

With one quick motion, the Valkyrie turned in her bed, and Maya found herself hitting the side of the bed and falling off the edge with a thud.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Is this what they call being pushed off the bedside? Well, I DON’T LIKE IT!”

—✵—

Tugging the stranger into another duvet to keep her from squirming like a baby in her sleep, Maya twirled on a lock of her voluptuous dark hair—contemplating what to do now.

That woman was special, that much Maya knew. It wasn’t every day someone stumbled on a person from a myth. What options did she have?

Call the government? Get some professional help from the hospital? Call a psychiatrist to schedule an emergency appointment because she believed she had found a real-life Valkyrie?

“Nah, I’m mentally fine… maybe I should work on my paper and wait till she wakes up.”

Maya sat back down on her desk and turned on her laptop. She was a university student and didn’t tend to go out much. Being overly social was overrated, anyway.

Not that she minded much, though she wished to be more fit.

Staying at home all the time had caused her to gain weight. She tried not to think about it too much, but it was too much of an effort to work out—or cut back on snacking—university was stressful.

Maya mumbled under her breath, wishing to try being in a relationship at least once.

She resumed typing fiercely on her keyboard, ignoring the weird intrusive thoughts. “Need some caffeine.”

Leaving for the kitchen, Maya didn’t notice how the Valkyrie had opened her eyes, waiting until Maya was out of sight. Propping herself slightly up, the Valkyrie inspected her wounds and opened a bandage on her hand.

The cut wasn’t deep. Muscles and skin tissue were already knitting themselves back together. Soon there would be no trace of damage left.

Only her heavier wounds would need more time and care, leaving behind a faint white scar.

Hearing footsteps approaching, she reclined in her bed, observing how Maya reentered and sat back on her work again, unaware of the awake Valkyrie.

Humming a distracting melody, Maya was back to typing clamorously with a steaming hot cup of tea beside her.

Carefully, the Valkyrie removed the duvet and walked barefooted on the covered fur rug. Stealthily, she approached Maya until she stood fully behind her, observing her curiously and what she was working on.

Cocking her head, the Valkyrie did not understand anything she was seeing. Instead, she concentrated on Maya’s focused face with the laptop’s light reflecting on her.

The Valkyrie felt the urge to keep looking at her for a bit more and leaned closer, though she flinched back when she saw Maya stirring in place.

“Time for a break.” Maya stuck out her chest and popped her back from sitting too much. The Valkyrie felt heat rising in her face. “I worked too much and— holy!”

Looking up, Maya was startled to find her patient’s face so close to hers. She abruptly turned and shot up from her spot.

“You’re awake! And as stealthy as a cat. I didn’t hear you,” said Maya, earning a confused look from the Valkyrie. “Right, ehm, let’s start with that. Who are you? What’s your name?”

“Name?” The Valkyrie repeated with a dry northern voice, a starry look in her amber eyes as if she wasn’t fully there. “Not. Remember. Who. I?”

“Oh dear, did she also hit her head?” wondered Maya, furrowing her brow and biting her lower lip. “What should I do now—”

“More. Important.” The Valkyrie leaned closer, putting a hand on the shelf beside them. “Who. You?”

Maya practically sat on the edge of the table. “This is close, very close!” Leaning further back, Maya had barely any space to move as the Valkyrie came even closer.

She brushed her hand over the table and accidentally toppled the cup, scalding her hand. “YOUCH!” Maya howled. “Oww, oww, oww, that hurt.”

Blowing at her reddening hand, Maya felt tears coming from her eyes. “Aloe Vera, gotta put some on before—”

Holding Maya’s hand, the Valkyrie observed the speckles of red forming on Maya’s brown skin. Taking in a breath, the Valkyrie blew softly against the burned surface.

Maya’s face was reddening like her skin. “I-I appreciate the gesture, but—”

The pain subsided.

Maya saw how her skin healed with each blow. She rubbed the back of her hand. It was smooth to the touch.

More so than usual, considering how often she forgot to put on hand cream.

“That’s a pleasant surprise. Tell me, do you really not know your name?”

The Valkyrie shook her head, bringing her platinum blond hair to dance and settle back perfectly to frame her beautiful dark skin.

“No. Not. Remember. Name,” she spoke again in broken sentences and a heavy northern accent. “Who. You?”

“Me? I’m Maya.” Maya put a hand on her chest. “Nice to meet you.”

“Maya. Sounds. Sweet.”

“Thanks,” Maya laughed with a red face, “but what should I call you? You’re a Valkyrie, right?”

The Valkyrie nodded. “Yes. Think. So.”

“That’s good, but I can’t just call you ‘Valkyrie’ all the time, no?” Then an idea struck Maya. “Since we don’t know your name yet. Why not call you, Val? Short for Valkyrie. What do you think?”

“Val? Sounds. Good. Like. It.” Val smiled at Maya brightly and took her hand. “Maya.”