I can't help but roll my eyes. Of course she told me you idiot. Question is, why didn't you tell me before if you already knew? Wanted to keep me 'safe' or some bullshit like that?

"Look," I say, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, "there's no way we can arrive in Norway without me being pregnant. And as you said, Erik, you can't go there with me pregnant at this age due to local laws against sleeping with children - or in this case, children that are supposedly gods."

Erik nods grimly, his massive frame seeming to shrink in on itself. "Aye, 'tis a predicament indeed."

"Dumitra recommended we stay in Francia until I'm mature enough," I continue, "but she also suggested living in a village in Norway far away from Kattegat until I'm old enough to go there."

Erik shakes his head, his golden mane catching the firelight. "Norway is off limits. They have volvas that can see the future. They'd find us in a heartbeat."

Well, isn't that just peachy? Psychic Norse fortune-tellers. Because this situation wasn't complicated enough already.

"Francia sounds like a good temporary plan," Erik muses, "but it's too complicated. There are too many unforeseen things that could happen during our stay there."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "Money makes it all right, doesn't it? You have a chest full of gold coins that could enable us to live there without any issues temporarily."

Erik's emerald eyes narrow. "Francia is too unpredictable."

Dumitra steps forward, her ruby eyes gleaming. "Francia hails to the God of Death, and they are quite fanatical. Might makes right there, money doesn't matter, although it's quite a civilized society."

Oh, how convenient of her to forget that little tidbit when she first suggested Francia. I swear, sometimes I think she's just throwing darts at a map and seeing where they land.

I put my hands on my head, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "What could we do then to escape the war?"

Erik's voice is low and resolute. "It's best to go to Norway. If anything happens to me, then so be it. If I'm killed by my father, it's better that you get to live and do your thing than me living."

Christ, he's really going for the noble sacrifice play. As if I need more guilt on my conscience.

Ioana's melodic voice cuts through the tension. "I cannot accept that!" Her emerald eyes flash with a mixture of anger and fear. "Father, you cannot simply throw your life away!"

Erik turns to her, his expression softening slightly. "Ioana, my sweet, sometimes we must make difficult choices for the greater good."

"Greater good?" Ioana scoffs, her voice rising. "What good is there in abandoning your children? In leaving us without a father?"

I watch the exchange, feeling like a spectator at a particularly bizarre tennis match. It's strange, seeing this vampire child argue with her Norse warrior father about the ethics of self-sacrifice.

"You don't understand," Erik says, his voice strained. "Lile's destiny-"

"Destiny?" Ioana interrupts, her eyes flashing. "What of our destiny? What of the family you've built here?"

Erik rises from his chair, towering over us all. "Ioana, please. This is not a decision I make lightly."

"No," Ioana says, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're right. I don't understand. And I don't want to."

With that, she turns on her heel and storms out of the cottage, the door slamming behind her with enough force to rattle the windows.

Well, fuck me sideways. As if this situation wasn't complicated enough, now we've got vampire family drama to deal with.

Virginia's melodic voice cuts through the tense silence. "Ioana can still hear what we're saying, even if she's not inside. Just keep this in... mind."

I turn to Erik. "If you're dead set on this plan that could get you killed, then I swear I'll rain hell on the Norse if they so much as look at you funny."

Dumitra's ruby lips curl into a predatory smile. "As will I."

I raise an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "You're coming with us?"

"Yes, of course," Dumitra purrs. "Why would I not?"

Of course she would, you idiot. She wants her precious video games.

Erik's emerald eyes narrow as he regards me. "Would you truly be capable of stopping my father in a confrontation?"

My gaze drifts to the mug on the table. Before I can even think about it, Dumitra's voice cuts through the air like a whip. "No, don't do it. You've already used it enough times today."

I dismiss her warning with a wave of my hand. Fuck that noise. I need to make a point here. I summon the memory of my children and wives dying, feeling the familiar surge of rage and grief. With a sharp, horizontal chopping motion, I slice the mug clean in half.

Erik's eyes widen in shock. "By Odin's beard, you're bleeding!"

I wipe the blood from my nose, trying to act nonchalant. "It's normal. Don't worry about it."

Dumitra's voice is sharp with concern. "It's dangerous, child. You should cease using your gifts for today."

I roll my eyes, feeling a headache building behind my eyes. "It was necessary to prove a point."

Turning back to Erik, I fix him with a steady gaze. "I have enough power to level a forest, but I still don't know how to use it effectively yet."

Virginia chimes in, her emerald eyes wide with remembered fear. "Lile was... terrifying during her awakening. I've never seen anything so frightening before."

"Case in point," I say, gesturing to Virginia. "I can protect you, Erik."

Dumitra's musical laughter fills the room. "Oh, little one. Your powers are better suited for leveling villages or even cities than my own gifts, which allow me to kill but one person at a time. While I must look at each individual and tell them to die, you can simply make a chopping motion and bisect multiple people in an instant."

Erik slumps back into his armchair, his face pale. "So my life is essentially in your hands when we make landfall in Norway without Lile being with child."

A wicked grin spreads across my face as an idea takes root. "You don't actually have to fuck me to get me pregnant, you know. That would shock everyone there."

Dumitra's laughter rings out again, and I press on, warming to my theme. "I just need you to beat your meat in a mug." I glance at the bisected mug on the table. "Well, maybe not that one. Then I'll just push your seed into my cunt and give a virgin birth in nine months."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Erik's eyes widen to comical proportions, and Virginia dissolves into giggles. I lean forward, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's the only way I can help you and make sure the Norse don't try to kill you for not fulfilling the prophecy. And if they really want proof that you didn't sleep with me, I'll show them my virgin orifice."

Erik's face cycles through a range of emotions - shock, disgust, consideration, and finally, reluctant interest. "But... but you could die in childbirth," he sputters, grasping at straws.

Dumitra waves a dismissive hand. "Nonsense. Lile will be wearing my tattoos. It's highly improbable that she could die in childbirth with such protection."

Erik runs a hand through his golden mane, his brow furrowed in thought. "This is... unorthodox, to say the least. And morally questionable."

I can't help but snort at that. "Morally questionable? Erik, my dear husband, we're living in a world where child brides and ritual sacrifice are par for the course. I think we're well past worrying about moral quandaries."

Virginia nods sagely, her emerald eyes gleaming with mischief. "She has a point, Father. And it would certainly be a tale for the skalds to sing about - the virgin birth of Gullveig's child."

Erik's gaze darts between us, his expression a mixture of disbelief and grudging acceptance. "You truly believe this... this deception would work?"

Dumitra's ruby lips curl into a predatory smile. "Oh, it will work. The Norse are a superstitious lot, after all. A virgin birth would only add to the mystique surrounding Lile's supposed divinity."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "So, what do you say, Erik? Ready to become a father without actually deflowering your child bride? It's a win-win situation, really. You get to keep your honor, I keep my virginity, and we both get to live through this clusterfuck of a prophecy."

Erik's emerald eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then, without warning, he leaps to his feet, nearly toppling his massive armchair in the process.

"By Odin's hairy ballsack!" he roars, his booming laughter filling the cottage. It's not a pleasant sound - more like the desperate cackle of a man who's finally snapped under the weight of too much absurdity.

"You," he gasps, pointing a trembling finger at me, "you are absolutely, utterly, irredeemably insane!"

I can't help but smirk. "Why, thank you. I do try."

Erik paces the room, his laughter interspersed with what sound suspiciously like sobs. "A virgin birth! Ha! As if the Norns haven't woven a tapestry strange enough already!"

He whirls to face Dumitra, his golden mane flying. "And you! You encourage this madness?"

Dumitra's ruby lips curl into an amused smile. "My dear Erik, madness and genius often walk hand in hand. Or should I say, hand in... well, you know."

Erik's face turns an interesting shade of puce at that, and he resumes his frantic pacing. "I've gone mad," he mutters. "That's the only explanation. I've finally cracked under the weight of this blasted prophecy."

Virginia, bless her undead heart, decides to chime in. "If it helps, Father, I think you went mad the moment you married a child bride who claims to be the reincarnation of a goddess."

Erik stops in his tracks, fixing his daughter with a wild-eyed stare. "You're not helping, sweet one."

I lean back in my chair, enjoying the show. It's not every day you get to see a Norse warrior have a complete mental breakdown. "Come now, Erik. Is it really so different from all the other nonsense in your myths? Zeus turned into a swan to get laid. At least we're keeping it relatively tame."

Erik's laughter takes on a slightly hysterical edge. "Tame? Tame, she says! Oh yes, nothing tame about impregnating a child with... with..." He gestures vaguely, apparently unable to bring himself to say the words.

"Your own seed?" I supply helpfully. "Your manly essence? Your viking vigor?"

"Stop!" Erik bellows, clutching his head. "By Thor's mighty hammer, I think I preferred it when you were just a simple, obedient child bride!"

I can't help but snort at that. "Sorry to disappoint, big guy. But look on the bright side - at least you're not boring anymore."

Erik collapses back into his armchair, his massive frame seeming to shrink. "Boring," he mutters. "Oh yes, because that was my greatest concern. Not fulfilling an ancient prophecy or avoiding death at my father's hands. No, I was worried about being boring."

Dumitra glides over to him, patting his shoulder with mock sympathy. "There, there, Erik. Just think of the stories they'll tell about you. 'Erik the Virile, who impregnated his bride without ever touching her!' It has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

Erik lets out a sound that's half laugh, half groan. "I think I preferred 'Erik the Exile.' At least that had some dignity to it."

I lean forward, fixing him with my most innocent smile. "So, is that a yes to the plan? Shall I fetch a mug for you to... contribute to?"

Erik's head snaps up, his emerald eyes wide with a mixture of horror and resignation. "I... I need a drink. Several drinks. Possibly an entire barrel."

As he stumbles towards the cellar door, I call after him, "Just remember to save some of that viking vigor for later! We've got a prophecy to fulfill!"

The sound of Erik's strangled laughter echoes up from the cellar, along with what sounds suspiciously like a forehead repeatedly connecting with a wooden barrel.

I turn to Dumitra and Virginia, unable to keep the grin off my face. "Well, I'd say that went rather well, wouldn't you?"

Dumitra's musical laughter fills the room, her ruby eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, little one," she purrs, "your suggestion for a virgin birth is beyond interesting. I must admit, I didn't expect such... creativity from you."

Virginia, standing beside her mother, is clearly struggling to suppress her own laughter. Her emerald eyes dance with mirth as she watches Erik stumble out of the cellar, a keg balanced on each broad shoulder. The Norse giant's face is a fascinating shade of puce as he carefully lays the kegs on the table with a resounding thud.

"These," Erik growls, his voice rough with barely contained emotion, "will be consumed AFTER we return from Eamonn's meeting in the village."

I can't help but smirk at his obvious discomfort. Poor guy's probably never had to deal with this level of mindfuckery before. Welcome to my world, big guy.

"Right," I chirp, injecting a note of childish enthusiasm into my voice. "We've got to go, haven't we?"

Erik nods, his expression growing serious. "Aye, and there's much to discuss. Eamonn will be announcing three things of great import."

I lean forward, genuinely curious. "Oh? Do tell."

Erik takes a deep breath, his massive chest expanding. "First, the war with England is beginning in full force. All men will be sent to war, including boys aged twelve and above."

Christ, they're sending children to fight?

"Are you being drafted?" I ask, unable to keep the concern from my voice. As annoying as Erik can be, I've grown oddly fond of the big lug.

Erik holds up a hand, his emerald eyes flashing with impatience. "No, let me finish."

I mime zipping my lips, earning an eye roll from the Norse giant.

"Second," Erik continues, "I am to be... a sort of leader for the village and those who remain behind. I'll manage village affairs along with the priests, keeping things healthy and orderly."

Erik? A mayor? Ha, well, yeah, he could do well. At least he's got more than two brain cells to rub together, unlike most of the slack-jawed yokels around here.

"And third," Erik says, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "is the reason I told you in the past that I wanted an opinion. The village ledger... I'll need to get every remaining unwed man or woman in the village wed as soon as possible. If we have odd matches, we'll need to import from other villages."

I blink, processing this information. "Wait, what? Why the sudden rush to play matchmaker?"

Erik sighs heavily. "The isolation of villages has come to a halt due to the war. They were isolated before due to the risk of plague, but now trade will begin again. We need to ensure our people are... settled."

I can't help but snort at that. "Settled? You mean breeding like rabbits to replace all the cannon fodder they're sending off to war."

Erik's jaw clenches, but he doesn't deny it. "There's more," he adds. "This evening, both Timothy and Brogan will arrive to have a discussion with me about something, though I know not what."

My eyebrows shoot up at that. "The dynamic duo of religious zealotry? Oh, this should be fun. Where'd you get all this juicy info, anyway? I thought I was the village gossip."

Erik's lips twitch in what might almost be a smile. "A soldier came to announce the other three things I did not yet know about - my new leadership role, the matchmaking directive, and the meeting with Timothy and Brogan."

I lean back in my chair, my mind whirling with the implications of all this. "Well, fuck me sideways," I mutter. "Looks like things are about to get real interesting around here."

Dumitra steps forward, her ruby eyes gleaming with an emotion I can't quite place. "Indeed, little one. The wheels of fate are turning, and we must all play our parts."

Virginia nods, her emerald eyes serious for once. "Mother and I have other matters to attend to in the meantime," she says, her melodic voice tinged with regret. "But we shall return soon enough."

As Dumitra and Virginia move towards the door, their otherworldly grace making even that simple act seem like a choreographed dance, I feel a strange mix of relief and disappointment.

The door creaks open, and there's Ioana, her emerald eyes still rimmed with red from her earlier outburst. She stands in the doorway, her gaze fixed on me with an intensity that's almost unnerving.

"Thank you," she says softly, her melodic voice carrying easily across the room.

I blink, caught off guard by the sudden gratitude. What the hell is she thanking me for? For suggesting her father jerk off into a mug? For generally turning their world upside down with my mere existence? The list of possibilities is both long and disturbing.

Before I can formulate a response, Ioana turns and glides away, falling into step with her mother and sister. The three of them move off into the fading afternoon light...

Erik clears his throat, snapping me back to the present. His massive frame seems to fill the entire room as he shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. It's almost comical, watching this bear of a man fidget like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.[...]