Chapter 5 Rage #2
Because some part of us both feels we are wrong somehow, in a soul-deep way none of my other drakes can match. We’ve been trying to bury that feeling of wrongness, that endlessly deep struggle of knowing I’m bad, and not in the fun way, all our lives.
It’s a feeling of being so terrible, so utterly dark inside, that it’s unforgivable.
And unlike Mikkel, Baldur and I are driven by our better natures and sense of righteousness.
To have an instinct that somehow, deep in our heart of hearts, we are evil, doesn’t sit well with us.
I feel that dark conflict resonate between us now, as we gaze at each other.
Eye to eye—and beast to beast.
It’s Bjorn who breaks that fell resonance, as he comes to me. As he pulls me into his brawny arms, it’s as if my big First Drake feels this soul-deep struggle inside me. He just holds me, rocking me in his arms. It helps, somewhat, and I’m grateful for his support as Strom comes to me, too.
Strom takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, pouring his deep, soothing desire through me as Bjorn holds me. Even as they try to help me with what I’m feeling right now, though, I know they can’t.
As I continue to stare into Baldur’s eyes, feeling our connection and knowing why we resonate, I know only he and I can figure this thing out. Because we’re a match with everything our darkest inner natures can do—especially how they’ve both gotten out of hand recently.
As Baldur stares at me now and we share this soul-deep fear, I feel how something deep inside us both doubts whether we are even good at all. And that’s bad, if we’re trying to go up against the most seriously evil, fucked-up thing I’ve ever known.
Because maybe it’s not the worst thing out there.
Maybe the worst thing out there… is us.
Baldur’s thought comes slicing through our bond like a knife. As I inhale, unsteady, I feel his words bury themselves right into my heart. No one else heard it; I feel how Baldur blocked all my other drakes from hearing what he just said to me. I’m not sure he’s wrong, though, as I feel shaken.
To my deepest foundation in the universe.
“Mikkel. You need to leave, now. Get the fuck out.” Bjorn takes command suddenly, as he wrangles our intense situation. As Bjorn commands him to leave the hall, Mikkel goes, albeit with a haughty laugh and a dismissing wave.
As he does, the tension finally eases, though Laerke remains to take over Baldur’s healing and see if she can push back his resurgent curses. Baldur lets her, resuming his seat in the silberskrae chair as Strom helps him down into it, and our intense eye contact breaks.
The feeling of something deep inside me being wrong is not gone, however, as Baldur refocuses on the silver mirror and the document upon it.
Strom steps aside with Bjorn and me to talk, now that the conflagration is over; but even as we head to a side-vault of the library to chat, I still feel shaken, deep inside.
I try to hide it, as Bjorn steps in close behind me again. As Bjorn grips my waist, kneading me with his hands, Strom steps in before me, pulling our hips close.
Strom smoothes his hands over my butt in my leather pants. But though his movement is sexy, I feel how none of us are in the mood right now, after the massive shit-storm that nearly happened in the hall. Though it was dissipated by Bjorn, there are still far too many unknowns, as we all stew.
Unknowns that just might undo us, before we can find our strongest might.
“Well, that was fun,” Strom chuckles, though his brimstone-green eyes are serious as he watches me, then Bjorn. “Nice moves, big guy, dissipating Baldur’s rage like that. Once again, saving us all, I might add.”
“I really don’t know what I did, but we can talk about it later.” Bjorn is honest as he moves me beside him now, so we can talk as a trio. “Right now, we need to focus on all of us getting back on our feet—and that includes Baldur, helping him deal with this massive rage he’s just uncovered.”
“Seems like something he dealt with back in his youth,” I comment now, as my gaze strays back to Baldur. As if feeling my regard, he glances at me from where he had been staring up at the silver mirror-stone, evaluating the scroll. For a moment, it renews that sensation of wrongness inside me.
Then Baldur looks back to the scroll—hiding his emotions once more.
“Apparently, he didn’t deal with it effectively enough.” Strom snorts, as he watches Baldur, as well. “He’s probably been hiding his Berserker’s rage from us this entire time. With that secretive ability he’s got, to so effortlessly hide what his power and emotions are doing.”
“Maybe it wasn’t hidden,” I say then, as I frown. “Maybe he suppressed it with all the meditation and Void-training he’s done. But he didn’t know it—he thought he’d dealt with it.”
“Some warriors don’t like to look at their inner rage,” Bjorn rumbles in agreement now as he glances at Baldur as well.
“It makes them feel weak to think they’re not in as much control as they think they are.
So they turn from it, rather than digging into it and why it’s there.
Which only buries it… making it fester until sometime later when they don’t have such a good handle on all their suppression mechanisms. Making it explode. ”
“My, my. You’re quite the anger management therapist lately.” Strom chuckles, though his gaze is approving as he watches Bjorn.
“You banished Baldur’s rage via your anger management training. Don’t think I didn’t notice,” I say to Bjorn now, as I wrap my arms around him and cuddle close. I love it that Bjorn has made so much progress with his anger, when once I thought it was going to be a complete deal breaker between us.
“I haven’t banished anything; I still have my own demons to deal with, Rikyava. You know that,” Bjorn rumbles now as he lowers his chin, kissing me. It’s sweet and deep, rather than his pulse-pounding usual. But then, I can feel how Bjorn’s stewing about his own inner demons now.
Specifically his father, Jarl Oggi Magnussen, still heading up the Magnussen Jarldom when he shouldn’t be.
That’s not a situation we can do anything about, though, until we get the greater part of our magic restored. And that means solving this conundrum of Baldur’s—and how his vast inner rage is getting pushed now, restored by the Black Dragon’s curses.
“What do we do about him?” I ask, as Bjorn’s and my kiss breaks and I nod at Baldur.
“Give me some time with him,” Bjorn rumbles as he brushes back a wayward strand of my hair.
“I may not be Mr. Perfect, but I’ve learned a few things about my inner rage from therapy.
Modern therapy didn’t exist eight hundred years ago when Baldur was processing his demons.
Maybe there are a few tricks that could help him. ”
“Worth a shot.” I cinch my arms tighter around Bjorn’s solid waist. “Want me to stay with you?”
“No. Go rest.” Bjorn nods towards the vaulted exit of the hall now, as a soft smile takes his lips.
“We all need to conserve our strength, rather than wasting it where we’re not immediately needed.
You and Strom should go take a nap after everything that happened just now, find some food and recover. ”
I feel Strom grow restless at Bjorn’s suggestion, though, and I look over at him.
“Actually… I would like to stay here a while. Go through some scrolls and volumes on the shelves that haven’t totally disintegrated.
” Strom looks at me, an eager fire shining in his green eyes.
“Maybe there’s something in this library besides the silver mirror that could be useful to us. You never know.”
“Curious kitty.” I smile now, as I leave Bjorn’s embrace to turn towards Strom, threading my arms around his far leaner waist. “Apparently, your treasure-hunting habits from trying to solve your own curses from Alfhild all these years die hard.”
“Hey, you never know. Maybe I’ll find us something else useful. This mirror was absolutely worth it.” Strom grins at me now as he cinches me close, palming my ass.
“Invaluable.” I kiss his lips, lingering before we part.
“Fine. You stay here, check things out, and help Bjorn and Laerke. I’ll go see if I can find some extra food for us and bring a bunch back.
If Baldur’s going to settle in here to study the scrolls, we should make him comfortable, probably bring him a bed or something to crash on as well.
I’ll get some sustenance first… see you two in an hour. ”
“Sounds good.” Strom kisses me one last time before I pull out of his arms. Turning, I kiss Bjorn, too, letting it linger before we pull away.
I don’t want to go, as I glance at my drakes one last time, preparing to exit the hall. Some part of me feels like I should stay; Baldur might need me to interpret some arcane detail from my Ancestor’s scroll, or to help dissipate his rage again before too long.
But let’s face it, I’m just a hindrance right now, as I fret about Baldur’s and my mutual darkness pushing us both into our worst natures. I heave a sigh, making eye contact with Baldur one last time. He feels me, stopping his work. Looking over, he raises his eyebrows.
I blow him a kiss.
The startle that takes his face is priceless. The connection that blazes between us is real, however, as our dragons rush to each other now in a deep mate-taste.
It shudders me with ecstasy, even as Baldur’s dark blue eyes burn like phosphorus. The rage in him isn’t gone, however; I feel it, lurking behind the serenity, as he at last quirks a sober smile.
That same inner darkness isn’t gone from me, either, as Baldur gets back to work on the scroll. As I leave, I can’t shake the feeling of Baldur’s and my own vast inner rage swamping me.
Because it’s so big, universal, like the sub-sonic hum of the cosmos’ own resonance. It’s deeper than sound, as it growls far down into my blood and bones, shuddering me to my very fundament.
I shiver as I move towards the library hall’s main doors, because that sound is inside me, through me, and all around me. And I still can’t shake the feeling that it’s evil, as my darkest dragon roils inside my veins now.
Powerful and unrepentant in its endless cosmic wrath.