Content Warning: bit of spice ahead

😳

Val was the first to wake up as she properly slept for the first time in a while. She didn’t let it on, but Val had insomnia with either no dreams, sleep paralysis or night terrors, leaving her tired and spaced out sometimes during the day.

So when she could help it, she would rise early to work out, go for a jog or, more recently, cook breakfast.

Val recalled her dream as she slowly tried to get the tiredness out of her system and embraced the warmth of the bed. She had been in a hall shaped like a ship, decked with gold and white facades with an assortment of stuffed animal heads and weapons hanging from the walls. The head of a nasty lindworm hung from one entrance, which she exited from, arriving at a meadow training ground.

Young women between the ages of 14 and 26 sparred with swords and shields, axes or spears in hand. Their braided, short or long hairs danced in the wild, smokey air of the hot braziers nearby and glistered against their sweat-glistering skin and trained bodies.

They were steeled for battle, much like Val was. She watched how one of her sisters grabbed another by the face and hurled her over the field. The young Valkyrie caught herself in the air and sprouted her white wings with brown tips. She twirled her spear and dove right back at her sister, who braced her shield to take the spear’s impact and get pushed back herself.

Then the scene switched, and Val found herself in a grand hall that spanned further than any city in the world, with a ceiling as high as the sky. It was also as loud as 9 packed stadiums pulled together and filled with the most rowdy assortment of men and women Val had ever had the displeasure of meeting—the men were primarily to blame.

They were the Einherjar, the chosen warriors handpicked by the Valkyries to serve the Allfather and ready themselves for the end of time. Now, Val found herself in a short-sleeved and low v-necked white dress with a tablet in one hand and a stein of beer in the other, serving those honourable warriors of death.

Val liked being a Valkyrie, but some parts of her job tired her out, and by the end of the day, she found herself in her cold small bed hugging her pillow, exhausted and alone from the endless days.

She remembered every instance of battle she raced with every scar she received.

Every honourable warrior she picked up and every nasty comment and grope she got in the hall before she vaporised the warrior for at least a decade out of existence.

She hugged the pillow tighter, syphoning its warm and soft existence into her tired and trained body. Her dream ended, and Val pleasantly woke up with her body tangled with Maya’s, who was still sound asleep and snored lightly with her chest rising with each gentle breath.

Val had to blink the sleep out of her eyes as she noticed her face was buried in Maya’s neck. She only recalled glimpses of her predicament last night, but Val knew she had been a bother to Maya—doing things she never would have done without her consent.

Yet when Val was in Maya’s embrace and felt the gentle rise of her chest and calmly beating heart, Val couldn’t help but pull her soft and warm body closer.

“Maya,” mumbled Val with a flushed face, gentling exhaling at Maya’s face and letting her coils dance. Val shily—unlike before—let her hands wander over Maya’s body, careful not to wake her up.

Over her generous chest that peeked out of the gown, the small of her back against the mattress and then her curvy thighs. Maya’s body shuddered slightly to the touch. Val stopped, waiting for Maya’s body to settle back in again before exploring around Maya’s abdomen.

Usually, Val would never have done this sort of thing, touching someone without permission. She rarely felt any arousal or emotional attraction to someone and didn’t know what it was, but right now, she felt a longing desire to explore Maya’s body more and drink in all the sensation it carried with her.

It was soft, warm and smooth, which excited Val, unlike the rough and hard bodies of men she had to endure seeing all day in the halls. She settled her hand on Maya’s stomach. It rose and settled with each gentle breath she took. Val traced the smooth line over the naval, and with her thumb, she wandered over the lower ribs.

“I like you,” mumbled Val as she slightly squeezed Maya’s belly. She stood up and kissed the birthmark on Maya’s side near one of her love handles and the small roll of chub she had.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done any of that,” Val mumbled with a blush.

Val rose and brushed her hands over her lean sides, where her defined abdominal muscles peeked out alongside her other muscles. She flexed her arm, and her faint white scars became more prominent. Frowning, Val glimpsed back and settled for a smile at seeing Maya still soundly asleep. “I hope she likes me as much as I like her.”

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Pulling the duvet back over Maya’s body, Val left to get herself a glass of water. She didn’t expect to find Fey sitting at the table with a light jacket over her body, revealing her white neckline and toned midriff—and peacefully eating a healthy breakfast.

“Morning, Miss Handsy,” Fey smirked and spread out her arms welcomely. “How’s our host? Hope you weren’t too rough on her last night,” she chuckled.

Val instantly drew the butter knife and jumped at Fey.

—❂—

Maya stirred awake, feeling weirdly sensitive over her skin. She stretched in her bed and noticed that Val wasn’t there anymore. “She must have woken up earlier.”

Standing up, Maya adjusted her gown again as it rode up over her abdomen. She checked herself in her mirror and grimaced, wandering with her hand over her belly and the crest that formed below it and just above the panty line.

“It’s so evident now.” Maya suppressed a whimper and pulled her gown over it. “I need to go on a diet. I don’t want her to see this.”

Maya headed out to her kitchen and found a strange sight.

Fey held a smug expression and was half naked—which wasn’t unusual as of late, but she at least wore a light jacket and woollen pyjama pants to cover her important parts.

Maya’s eyes widened upon seeing Val holding a butter knife against Fey’s throat. Her hand shook, unsure whether to slit it open or not. Then she turned around. Seeing Maya, Val’s hardened expressions softened somewhat.

“Maya?” she asked with an unsure tone. “Did you. Give. The witch. Guest rights?”

“Guest… Rights?” Maya cocked her head in confusion. “She’s a guest, I think? Why do you ask?”

“Tch,” Val clicked her tongue, and Fey let out a derisive loud laugh.

“Could someone explain this to me?”

“Guest rights,” Fey spread out her arms, “in our world, you can’t harm or kill guests, not even enemies. When they claim that right, you have to find other, more creative ways to kill them. Like accidentally serving a lactose-intolerant Viking some cheese,” Fey chuckled.

“So that’s what that question was about yesterday?” Maya wrinkled her nose. “Whatever. Where did you get your breakfast? I don’t remember having strawberries at home.” Maya pointed at the bowl of wheat cereals with fresh fruits like blue- and strawberries.

Fey forked her strawberry and took a bite out before putting it aside. She smiled, put her hands together and drew a semicircle in the air with them to create a small rainbow. “Magic.”

Maya rolled her eyes at Fey and heard Val clap her hands. She beamed at Maya. “How about. I make some. Breakfast. For you?” offered the Valkyrie.

Maya tried to hide the uncomfortable twitch of her lips. Her hand wandered consciously over her stomach and then her eyes at Val’s bright expression. “I feel so bad for what I’m about to say.” Maya shook her head. “Sorry, not today. I’m not hungry.”

Val’s smile visibly dropped. “Oh. I. see…” Val’s composure was waning. “Maybe. Coffee?”

The suggestion sounded almost desperate. Maya felt terrible already for rejecting Val’s cooking, but gave in to the alternative. “Coffee sounds good.”

Maya sat down opposite Fey and let out an exhausted sigh. Fey chuckled softly, though it quickly strained when she sat alone with Maya. “Sorry again for what I did,” she blurted out. “Tricking you with the guest rights, the Draugr attacks and… everything else.”

Maya blinked and unfolded her arms. “So… you’re Fey? Feodora?”

“The one and only,” confessed Fey and produced an envelope out of her little jacket near her chest. She placed it down on the table and slipped it to Maya. “Remember this one?”

Maya tentatively took the envelope and looked inside. She remembered having exchanged several coloured letters with Fey in the past, but not the specific contents anymore.

The envelope was packed with several letters. Maya skimmed through them like she did with her project books. She was more than a little surprised by remembering the content. “Those are our first letters. And one is about… your leg.”

Fey took another bite and put her fork down with a strawberry still impaled on it. She rubbed her right leg absently. “You know why I started writing letters to you?”

“It was because of the program which our healthcare provider had a few years ago, no?”

“That’s how I found you,” admitted Fey. “My mother and grandmother admitted me to a clinic for my depression because of my leg. They said I should try having a pen pal. You remember how I told you I found the idea stupid?”

“Of course,” laughed Maya. “So did I, but apparently, they worked.”

“That… they did,” sighed Fey, pushing away her bowl. “Ever since a Giant destroyed my leg… I was driven by anger and prone to outbursts. I was not in the best headspace, and I’m still not. Your letters helped. Talking with you and sharing our problems helped me—a lot. I felt a connection. I’m so sorry I forced you into talking about your, you know… I didn’t know it was you… I’m sorry, Maya. Can you forgive me?”

Fey reached over the table to put a hand on Maya’s. Maya saw a glint in her eyes; she held back to cry. Fey may have acted confident the entire time—unreachable and lofty—but she looked almost desperate for a positive reply. Her lips quivered from the mistakes she made with her long-distance friend, whom she only met for the first time.

Maya put her hand over hers, patting it. “Only if you promise to make it up and if you apologise to Val. You also hurt her.”

“Heh.” Fey's smirk was weak. “She’d rather smack me, I presume. Considering the recent events.”

“I. Will,” warned Val, smacking the cup of steaming pitch-black coffee next to Fey’s hand, but not enough to spill it. Her angry expression softened when she gave Maya hers—a cup of warm pumpkin-spiced latte. “Here. Enjoy.”

“Thank you,” replied Maya, and sipped on the coffee. She almost squealed in delight and cupped her cheek.

Fey narrowed her eyes at her and took a sip of hers. “She pampers you. Be careful. Love can settle on your hips as well.”

“Too late,” Maya clicked with her tongue and put down her coffee. She licked the cream off her lips and dismissed the topic for another one. “Back on track. What should we do about the giant zombie thing you unleashed? And what were those white wisps that made Val so,” Maya’s face reddened, and so did Val’s, “handsy?”

“OH! Nice timing. I have news on that.” Fey pulled out a remote from the other side of her chest and turned on the TV with today’s news running. “I know where it is!”