Editing Eternity (Warhammer High) (section)

=== Thangir's Burden ===


Thangir, the newlywed Prince of Fenris and nominal Lord of the Fang, sat at the picture window in his suite, clad in the night sky.  The massive mountains of the Fang jutted all the way through the clouds here on stormy nights, but tonight there were none; just a clear view to the snow-covered plains and mountainsides below.

The youthful warrior looked out at the snows and rocks, feeling an uncomfortable sense of longing.  He had received his enhancement surgery from the Fang’s Wolf Priests after a brief visit by the Emperor himself; or All-father of the Imperium, as he was known to the Fang.  The experience had been awe-inspiring and frightening to the then-nineteen-year-old mortal, but clearly whatever test to which he had been subjected had impressed the Emperor, as Freya had extended the offer of the same eternal life she enjoyed to Thangir mere minutes later.  He had had not needed to think long to accept.
The surgery’s recovery had been agony, but the enhancements he had received had been quite worth it.  Better stamina, strength, senses…all of him seemed improved.  It had even caused his canines to grow a bit from his upper jaw, like Freya’s had, though they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere near as large as hers, and she had told him that her senses were far superior.

For all the improvements, though, the part he had enjoyed the most so far had been the reduction in time spent asleep.  Where before he could have slept like the dead for nine hours after a hard day, now he never felt the need to sleep more than four or five at the most.  The extra hours made each day feel fuller and more vital, and he had reveled in it.  At least, he had at first.

Of late, his mind had drifted to a darker topic.  He had tried to banish it, but it had come back, closer and quite vivid.  It was confusing.  It made him feel like he was committing infidelities, too, which didn’t help.

The quietest sound of footsteps behind him caught his ear.  His newly enhanced ears and nose told him Freya was standing in the door to the royal bedchambers, watching him.  Even with his new senses, though, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to detect her if she hadn’t wanted him to.  His awe at her abilities had only grown as his own senses had.

The starlight glimmered an unnatural green in her lupine eyes, and allowed him a view of her bare silhouette.  She had worked the braids in her hair loose before retiring, and her hair fell around her chest and shoulders nearly to her waist in places.

She looked into his eyes in silence for a moment, letting her scent do the talking.  She was curious as to his absence, it seemed.

“Sorry.  I had a nightmare,” Thangir said.

Freya kept watching him, before walking over to the bay seat beside him on the windowsill and sitting down with her back to the far side.  She leaned back and glanced out the window, letting him see her beautiful profile.  The red moon of Fenris shone undimmed this high up, and spilled watery light like diluted blood over her naked skin.  She looked every inch the Valkyrie he had mistaken her for the first time he had seen her.

“No,” she said softly.

“No…what?” Thangir asked.

“No, you didn’t have a nightmare,” she said.

Thangir bristled.  Freya’s eyes darted to him, though her head didn’t move.  “You didn’t fall asleep yet tonight,” she said.  It was a statement, not an accusation.  Thangir deflated.

“Sorry, my love,” he said.  The guttural Juvjk they were using was his native tongue, though she had only learned it in later life.

She turned her head to look at him fully, though he was relieved to sense no judgment in her yet.  “So what troubles you, my warrior?” she asked.  She had called him that first when he had only been one of her servants, after washing out of Space Wolf training at Kerrvik Training Camp in the Asaheim foothills.  He had mistaken it for derision, at first, before she had whispered it in his ear one evening with a look of invitation he would never forget for the rest of his life.

“I feel…distracted,” Thangir said.  “I was reliving something most unpleasant.”

Freya cocked her head.

“The…” Thangir’s words failed for a moment.  He gestured at the ragged scar, nearly an inch thick in places, from his left shoulder to his waist, just below his navel.  It had killed him.  Only the medical gear in the back of Freya’s Thunderhawk had saved him.  As he had bled out on the sands of his home island, he had heard the victorious Ironjaws destroying his village, sacking his home, capturing his people to use as slaves and whores.  Freya had watched the entire battle from the sidelines with two Wolf Priests and a few skjalds, selecting the finest warriors to take to Kerrvik.

Freya nodded understanding.  “I see.”  She flicked a few stray red hairs over her shoulder and settled back against the metal walls.  “Do you still feel the pain?”

“No…not the physical injury,” Thangir said.

“What, then?”

“I…I hear the sounds.”  Thangir looked away, ashamed of himself.

Freya’s eyes narrowed a hair.  “Of the battle…or the aftermath?”

Thangir nodded as the truth crept closer.  “You have it,” he whispered.

Freya traced a hand over his leg, crossed and resting on his knee.  “Thangir, you’re a strong man.  I know you can overcome your fear.”

“Not fear,” Thangir said, harshness welling up in his tone.  He forced it back.  “I’m…I feel unfaithful, but…”

“Unfaithful?” Freya asked, confused.

“My…daughter, Freya.  My wife,” Thangir said, forcing it out.  “I flashed back to losing them.”

His second wife fell silent.  She had known he had been married before his ascension, but so had thousands of other battle brothers.  They had had more brainwashing to erase their old lives, though.  It seemed more of it lingered than she thought.  “I see.”

Thangir sighed.  “Forgive me, Freya.  It…I can remember hearing them scream my name from the back of your ship,” he managed.  “Since I met you, it’s been lessened, but it’s still there.  It’s what kept me awake.”  He shook his head.  “I’m sorry.”

Freya glanced at him sidelong, her gaze softening somewhat.  “I understand.”

“It’s not missing them specifically,” Thangir said.  He felt compelled to continue.  “Of course I miss them.  But…knowing that they’re out there and I can’t get them back is the worst feeling.”  They were undoubtedly still alive on some Ironjaw island somewhere, being used to pump out babies for the clan.  The thought set Thangir’s teeth on edge.  His daughter and wife, enslaved…and the very vow he had taken to serve the Fang – and the one he had taken to wed Freya – prevented any action on his part.  He was technically the Prince of Fenris, and couldn’t interact with his nominal subjects whatsoever.

His new wife squeezed his leg from her perch.  “I can’t help with that, Thangir, but…maybe there is one way we can help you move on.”

He looked up at her.  “How?”

She rose to her feet, letting her hair drape back down across her back.  “I can’t help you get your old family back, but I most certainly can help you make another.”

Thangir thought about that, and felt the ache in his mind fade.  “Then…you’ve thought about this?” he asked, scenting a sense of decision come about her.

She turned and walked back to the door to the Royal bedchamber, pausing to cast a glance back at him, chased with a faint grin.  “I have.”

Thangir stood to follow her.  Freya sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him.  “…Thank you, Freya,” he murmured.  He leaned down from beside the bed and kissed her on the cheek.  “I was afraid you’d think less of me.”

“I wouldn’t.  Not for wanting to do more than you could,” Freya said.  “But not now, all right?”  She slid her hands up his arms and guided him down.  “Now…me.”

“Us,” Thangir said softly, and they embraced once more.