Prelude
"READY THE FORCES!" A booming voice cried, causing the babe swaddled in her mothers finest fur to stir, large black eyes blinking as she gurgled, and grabbed in the way babies often do- uncertain, unyielding and with a grip smaller than the pink of fingers.
All around her, warriors ran, tying up their armour and strapping weapons to their bodies. In the stables nearby, the whiny of great winged beasts came, making the babe gurgle, and yawn.
For such a young child, these noises were not unusual for her, and she turned over, a single, featherless wing poking from the fur. It looked like that of a nestling chick, without any of the feathers she would grow later in life.
Her mother was gone already- but one of her endless aunts noticed the baby as she was fastening a sword to her hip.
"Poor Skuggi, who left you down here away from the nursery." Leaning over the makeshift cot of animal skins, her aunts warm calloused hands wrapped around her, smiling down at the babe who fussed at the touch, and looked around.
There was no warrior who was not rushing around, fear and excitement running rampant.
The aunt shook her head, and picked up a discarded cloak, it's natural light blue distorted with an ink stain that took up most of the fabric, and wrapped it close around the small child.
"Come little one, I shall take you to Heimdall, he at least won't forget about you like Hildr."
The warrior jogged, her mind more focused on the battle about to come that the small child in her arms, to the stables where her mount was already saddled, and jammed her leg in the stirrup, the other already swinging over the animals back.
The winged horse, as white as fresh snow took off into the sky after barrelling through the emptying stables. It followed a legion as they flew above Asgard, then dipped down before they passed through bifrosts open gate to another realm, where the fight was happening.
Skuggi, a nickname for the first child to be born with wings darker than a pale tawny, white or cream that all other Valkries bore, yawned, the fresh air comforting her skin which burned to keep up with a warrior species metabolism.
~~~
The winged horse landed, and the warrior jumped off, cradling the child as she strode towards the large golden building, it's arched entrance tall enough for even a fire giant.
She spotted the gatekeeper at his station, hands on her sword -Hǫfuð- and head bowed.
The warrior, cradling the child with one arm shouted, "Heimdall! I was wondering if you could keep an eye on-" her voice fell silent as she noticed the women in fine clothes standing next to him, her eyes surrounded by the very beginning of ageing.
"Lady Frigga." She bowed fully, the baby in her arms gurgling and yanking on a braid which had now fallen down into her reach as the warrior bent in the middle.
The woman -Frigga- smiled, nodding to Heimdall as she walked over.
"Good eve Hjörþrimul, I would have thought you would be with your legion." The woman spoke calmly, but Hjörþrimul- the warrior aunt of the babe saw how she wrung her hands. Tonight, they marched on Frigga's daughter Hela. It was no easy time for a mother.
"I will be shortly, but Hildr left our little Skuggi in the armoury again, I know how the nursery folk don't like to be around her ..." The warrior looked down at the child, who was tugging on a braid, trying to chew on it. Her wings -which all Valkyrie young had until they sacrificed them for Odin's Oath, a pledge of loyalty, and gave them to a horse so they could fly into battle- were an unusual black colour, one that promised omen of ill, compared to the pale ones of her sisters.
"I thought Heimdall might watch after her until we return."
Frigga smiled softly, and held out her arms.
Hjörþrimul passed over her niece, smiling as the baby made noises of displeasure as she was pulled from the dark braids she had played with.
Frigga flicked the babes nose and cooed at her, "I shall look after her until the Valkyrie forces are back." Looking up at the Valkyrie she nodded, pain in her eyes because she knew the warrior was part of the force to take her only child, "You're dismissed."
Hjörþrimul did not blame her for the cold attitude, it was a hard thing they were doing today, and even harder for a mother to forgive even if her child was threatening the safety of others.
The babe gurgled, now happy to play with Frigga's own golden braids.
The All-Mother watched as the warrior strode away, who was nodding in greeting to Heimdall and jump onto the back of her steed. Turning the reins, the warrior started to gallop down the bifrost in order to take off, and was a few feet from the ground when a dark shape burst from the water.
Fenris.
Hela's giant wolf.
Frigga sucked in a breath as Fenris snarled, and grasped the winged horse and Hjörþrimul within her great maw, and ended them both with a swift crunch.
Without pausing to sate her appetite, the wolf, still dripping with water turned it's head towards the golden orb where Frigga stood, babe in her arms.
And then Fenris started to run.
Frigga frowned, every inch a queen from her crown to her soft leather boots, gently entangled one arm from where she held the Valkyrie child and said, "I should have put you in a sack and dumped you over the Bifrost as a pup."
Fenris snarled, gaining traction of the bridge, but as she was but a leap away from the All-Mother, Frigga held out her hand, shouting an incantation.
Fenris stopped dead in her tracks, and threw her heady back and forth. Beneath the midnight sun, her maw started to turn grey, fur sagged and muscle fell away. Still the beast slowly struggled to step forward, growls turning into whines.
The All-Mother let out but a single grunt, her own eyes gaining slight wrinkles, and lines around her mouth just starting to begin definition.
But a single Asgardian wolf's lifespan was nothing compared to that of a goddess.
And inches from entering the dome, Fenris sagged and fell, drained of life.
Frigga let out a breath, turning to Heimdall who's hands were gripped around the hilt of his sword. She knew he would have moved if she needed help, but she also knew he was aware of how important it was keeping the gates open. To keep their Valkyrie forces flowing out.
The babe in her arms had stopped tugging on her falling braids, and had nestled up in the stained cloak, choosing sleep in the midst of war.
Heimdall turned his head, to stare at the child in his Queens arms, with eyes filled with sorrow.
"Your majesty ... there's something I think you should know."
~~~
Long after the battle ended, Odin -now freshly aged with his enchainment in place to hold Hela in her death dimension- and his wife stood before the valkyrie nursery where all those too young to wield a sword or battle axe had been safety ensconced.
Or so they had thought.
Large, bloody, wolf prints led away from the wreckage, bodies of infants and adolescents along with their carers strew around the rubble.
It seemed that Fenris had stopped somewhere before coming to try and close the Bifrost which was channelling the Valkyries to her mistress' domain.
Not that it had mattered, Hela had slaughtered all of the forces anyway ... opening the Bifrost had been a mistake.
And now, a single babe held in a handmaids arms behind Frigga was all that remained of the once powerful race of warriors.
A babe that had been marked from birth as an omen of ill-fortune.
Odin sighed, his eye weary as he looked at the devastation. The rest of Asgard had been similarly attacked, but this was a blow for the future of their people. After all, children were rare enough as it was, without this slaughter.
Frigga had already turned to the babe, peering at the baby who was chewing one of her countless aunts cloaks. This one, like her wings which had yet to feather, was stained a dark inky black.
The All-Father sighed, and turned to stare at the child.
"She is the last of her kind. Done so by my thoughtless hand. How will she ever take the pledge when she grows and realises what I have done. We cannot repopulate the forces with just one child"
Frigga looked up at her husband, and frowned. "Ignoring a problem is what got us into this mess."
Odin shook his head, staring at the child like it directly responsible for the carnage around them, "She is unnatural. Born marked by Hela herself. We could not possibly keep her."
Frigga looked at the child, then away again as guilt crept into her stomach, tightening her abdomen uncomfortably.
Heimdall appeared from behind a half-fallen wall, his golden eyes watching the child, "Perhaps there is somewhere we could send her. Until it is time for her to face what has happened to her people, and what she was marked as."
Odin frowned, staring at the child who the handmaid quickly handed off to Heimdall, and bowed her exit. Even the woman could not bare the hold the thing for long, "But then she would be grown. And perhaps have her own idea of us. She may never take the pledge or be interested in the creation of more of her kind. Stars know that many of her kind did not want to put down a sword long enough to create more legionnaires."
Heimdall shook his head, "Perhaps we could keep her in this form, and send her somewhere dormant until it's time for her to be awakened."
Odin looked at the All-Mother who nodded, "It could work. We could send her to Midgard, their kind are still much further behind the rest of the realms- she could lay there dormant until the right time."
Taking in a breath Odin nodded, looking as the child who gazed at him, large black eyes mirrors to his guilt. "Then send her away. And we will deal with it another time."
Turning, he strode towards the great hall, even with his wisdom, perturbed by the child's gaze.
And so the Asgardians sent away the last Valkyrie, ensconced in a small stone capsule, sealed by Frigga's magic until there was time needed for another Valkyrie in the world. The last Frigga saw of the small boulder it was being sent down the bifrost to somewhere on Mitgard.
Unbeknown to them, it would be a few thousand years until Frigga remembered the child, having two more of her own now, and undid the spell, knowing her husband sook to hand the throne over soon.
So the Skuggi slept in her stone cot, as Empires rose and fell, the stars were mapped and the continent in which she landed on was conquered by those from the east by fire and fury.
Right until a cabin that was built on the land where she slept was bought and sold, inherited, lost in a game of cards and then sold again, until a couple, bereft of their own child, found the capsule digging a new vegetable patch, and opened it.
Awakening the last Valkyrie.