Page 32 of Vicar
So where was their lair? Because he couldn't imagine it being the Alfheim cave. Then again, itdidkeep them level, so why not?
“What about that one?” young Trinity asked, pointing at a particularly vicious axe hanging too high for them to reach. It was double-bladed with a sharp point thrusting out from the middle. “How do you use that?”
Trinity’s shoulders tensed. “I craved that like I craved getting into the Keep. Craved fighting like a man.” She shook her head. “And trust me, the latter of the two couldn’t be more unlike me. I never desired to fight when I was younger.” She shivered. “And downright hated violence.”
While that could be said of many, he sensed it ran especially deep for her.
“Not anymore, though,” Trinity went on, her voice off just enough to alarm him. “Now, I can think of nothing better than slicing my enemy’s throat.”
“Yes, you can.” Sensing her Múspellsheimr side surfacing, drawn to the axe and the harm it could inflict, he pulled her out of the armory and away from the memory. Away from weapons that bred nothing but violence. He seized her by the shoulders the moment they were outside and met her eyes. “Are you all right, Trinity?”
“I want to go back in the armory,” she ground out. More than familiar with the sensation in himself, he could feel her two sides warring with each other, struggling to remain on top.
“No.” He shook his head. “You want to stay here. Right here.”
Well aware he could manifest anything in this place to suit his dragon’s needs, he surrounded them with as much joy and happiness as possible. Anything to push her dark side back down. To do as Loki requested. Gentle snow began falling. A holiday sprang to life around them. A bonfire crackled in the distance. Children ran by smiling and laughing. Young couples just finding love strolled by.
One couple, in particular, turned out to be a memory.
A memory, as it happened, that offered them another much-needed piece of the puzzle.
