Chương 84: Chapter 82 – Little Demon with Big Emotions

Chelsea sat on Ivy's lap, facing her. Neither of them had said much after the announcement. Words felt pointless. They had both understood what Adriane's announcement meant the moment it left her mouth. They had a few days together. Only a few days until Chelsea left with the Valkyr. They had known Chelsea and Ivy might go. They had even planned around it. Adriane crushed those dreams. Chelsea's arms were wrapped around Ivy's shoulders.

Ivy held her around the waist, fingers pressed into the fabric of Chelsea's dress as if letting go would make the next few days disappear faster. Both of them had cried until they ran out of tears to do it properly. Now they were only sitting together, breathing unevenly, holding on. Chelsea kept thinking of all the little moments she had wasted. The time she had hurried through breakfast because she had jobs to read at the guild. The time she had teased Ivy instead of kissing her longer.

The time she had assumed there would always be another evening, another walk, another quiet minute in her room with Ivy's arms around her. There would still be the few days. That should have been something but It didn't feel like enough. A knock came at the door. Neither of them moved. Chelsea did not want to speak to anyone. Ivy didn't either. There were very few people either of them could bear seeing at that moment. Fiona, maybe. The door creaked open slowly.

"Chels? Ivy?" Adriane's voice was gentle. Chelsea closed her eyes. Ivy's grip tightened slightly around her. Adriane stepped into the room and stopped just inside the door. She looked at them for a moment, and Chelsea heard the soft sigh that followed. It hurt more because it sounded tired and sad. Neither Chelsea nor Ivy spoke.

"Okay," Adriane said quietly.

"Don't talk. Just let me explain." Chelsea kept her face against Ivy's shoulder. Adriane remained near the door, giving them space.

"Valhalla is a warrior-based city with no mages," Adriane continued.

"Ivy would be expected to train as a warrior, and there is a high chance she could get hurt. Not in a normal training way. Not a few bruises and scrapes. Hurt badly." Ivy did not move. Chelsea wanted to argue but Adriane kept going.

"Your relationship would also put pressure on her. You are not simply going there as Chelsea. You are going as the Valkyr of Havoc. Everyone will be watching you. Studying your every movement. Judging everything around you. If Ivy is there, they will use her to understand you." Chelsea lifted her head a little. Adriane's expression tightened.

"I am not saying all of them would do it cruelly. Some might not even understand they were doing it. But Ivy would become part of your training, your politics, and your reputation. She would be the person they ask about your secrets when you refuse to answer. She would be the person they watch when they want to know how to hurt you." Ivy's breathing changed. Chelsea turned toward Adriane now, tears still on her face.

"This is my way of ensuring her safety," Adriane said.

"Just because you're leaving does not mean I'll abandon her. I'll do everything I can to train her, to protect her, and to prepare her to stand by your side, Chels." Chelsea stared at her mother. She wanted so badly to be angry. Hell, a part of her still was. But Adriane had not come in to defend herself. She had come in to tell them the part Chelsea had not been able to hear in the dining room. Ivy was not being left behind because Adriane was being cruel. She mattered too much. Still, neither of them responded.

Adriane waited a few seconds longer, then nodded once.

"That's it. Good night." She stepped back into the hall and closed the door softly behind her. Chelsea turned back to Ivy and pulled her in closer. Passion The day refused to settle in Passion's mind. Havoc was supposed to be her partner. That should have been exciting. Passion had waited four years for her pair, and now the missing place at her side had a name, a face, and a title. Chelsea Wixx the Valkyr of Havoc. Instead of excitement, Passion felt… scared.

It wasn't a normal fear like a threat to her life or nerves. Passion understood those. This was different. Havoc had made Freya cry. Then, less than twenty minutes later, she had made Adriane fucking Wixx cry. The Silver Sword. Crying… She didn't do it through cruelty either. No it was something far stranger. Kindness and attention. A box of sewn animals. She sat in the bath with the water up to her shoulders, trying to let the heat ease the tension from her body.

The bath was every bit as good as Havoc had promised. Better, maybe. Passion had intended to enjoy it, but her mind kept returning to the same scenes. The orphanage. Freya's helm sitting beside her on the bed as she wept. Adriane holding Havoc. And there was Havoc, at the center of everything, smiling through all of it. Passion closed her eyes and drifted off a bit. Suddenly there was a voice.

"So, what's your take?" Stolen story; please report. Passion opened her eyes. Deceit and Suffering had settled to her left side of the tub without asking if she wanted company. That was normal enough. Privacy among the Valkyr was not the same as privacy elsewhere, and the bath was large enough for everyone in the house at once.. Deceit leaned back against the edge of the tub, watching Passion with open interest.

"Is she living up to your expectations?" Passion sighed.

"I don't know. I can't seem to figure her out."

"What was that talk about secrets?" Suffering asked.

"What kind of secrets could she hold that would prompt her mother to threaten us? Does she truly believe she can defy the Valkyr?" Passion rubbed both hands over her face.

"Suffering," she began, "what's the most powerful equipment you've encountered?" Suffering frowned at the change in subject but answered anyway.

"I once saw an A-rank adventurer wielding a Epic+4 sword."

"And you, Deceit?" Passion asked.

"Epic+1," Deceit responded.

"Why?"

"Havoc took me to a blacksmith today," Passion said. Deceit's expression sharpened with interest.

"And? Did he have quality gear?"

"Havoc was there to collect two pieces of Historic+1."

"Bullshit," Suffering said immediately. Deceit leaned forward, disturbing the surface of the water.

"You are certain?"

"I was standing there," Passion replied.

"The blacksmith treated it like an accomplishment but Havoc treated it like a fun errand." Suffering stared at her. Passion continued before either of them could interrupt.

"Have either of you examined the gear on the counter in their dining room? It's mostly Epic gear with a few high end Rare pieces among them." Deceit's eyes narrowed, remembering the equipment just sitting out.

"I trailed her all day today," Passion said.

"That was not even the most confusing part of the day." Suffering leaned back slowly.

"Do you think she's capable of wearing it?"

"What level do you need to be to gain the effects of historics?" Suffering asked.

"No," Passion said.

"I doubt she can. And I have no clue." Deceit and Suffering both looked at her. Passion leaned back against the edge of the bath, letting the water sit just beneath her collarbone. She thought back to the practice field, to Chelsea standing with less armor than any reasonable person would wear while sparring.

"I observed her in combat today," Passion continued.

"It was simultaneously underwhelming and terrifying." Deceit tilted her head.

"Explain." Passion turned to Suffering instead.

"You enjoy pain, don't you? But you still feel it?" Suffering's eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, I do find it appealing. And yes, I still experience it. Why?"

"Just wondering," Passion muttered, loud enough for both of them to hear. She did not immediately continue. The bath was quiet around them. Steam gathered near the ceiling, and the sound of water shifting seemed too loud whenever one of them moved. Passion had spent the whole day trying to understand Havoc, but each answer had created more questions. Now that she had other Valkyr in front of her, she did not know where to begin without sounding foolish.

"I think we might have fucked up trying to collect her," Passion finally admitted. Deceit stared at her.

"How so? You've been pining for a Havoc for, gods, years? Now that you have one, you say we fucked up? She's a Valkyr. She needs to be collected."

"I know," Passion said.

"I know. But this girl..." She shook her head. None of it fit together in a clean way.

"You know what?" Passion said.

"Never mind. I'm probably just being overly dramatic or something."

"Don't do that," Suffering said. Passion glanced at her. Suffering leaned forward slightly.

"Talk." Passion drew in a slow breath.

"Have either of you heard Freya speak?" Deceit and Suffering exchanged confused looks.

"Freya can't speak," Deceit replied. Passion nodded slowly. That was what she had expected them to say. It was what she would have said that morning. Freya did not speak. Freya nodded. Freya raised a hand. Freya gave commands through silence and presence, and the Valkyr obeyed because that was what they had always done.

"She spoke to Havoc today," Passion said.

"When everyone was eating that food. I followed them upstairs. I heard her voice." Suffering frowned.

"You must be mistaken."

"I thought the same." Passion stopped there. She didn't tell them about Freya sobbing into Chelsea's shoulder. That had not been hers to hear, and it would not be hers to repeat.

"Describe Freya's helmet to me," Passion said. Deceit's brow furrowed, but Suffering answered.

"A polished steel helmet with two wings covering the eyes." Deceit nodded in agreement.

"Have either of you seen it off her head?" Passion asked.

"What color hair does she have?"

"She is a goddess," Deceit said.

"I believe the helmet is part of her form. She doesn't have hair. Why are you asking all this? It seems disrespe…"

"She has long, black, wavy hair," Passion interrupted. Both Valkyr went still. Passion looked between them.

"She removed it as she spoke to Havoc. No one else fits that description. She was referring to our visit to Havoc in the domain last night." Deceit stared at Passion with the first truly uncertain expression Passion had seen from her in years. Suffering looked down at the bathwater, jaw tight. A full minute passed in silence. Then the bathhouse door opened. Havoc stepped inside with Ivy beside her.

"Hi," Havoc greeted meekly. Her eyes were puffy from recent tears, and Ivy stood close enough that their shoulders brushed. Havoc looked smaller than she had in the dining room. But passion knew she was still the same demon girl with golden horns, white wings, and too many secrets. Passion glanced quickly at Deceit and Suffering. She shook her head once. Do not ask. don't push for answers. Deceit and Suffering both understood. They nodded, and the silence held.

Chelsea looked between the three of them, clearly aware that she had interrupted something. Then she gave a tired little smile and tightened her fingers around Ivy's hand.

"Sorry," Havoc said.

"I really wanted a bath." Chelsea This was not what Chelsea wanted. She had wanted quiet. She had wanted a bath, a closed door, and Ivy close enough that the rest of the world could stop existing for a little while. She did not want to talk. But here they were. Chelsea sank into the bath with Ivy pressed close to her. Their legs were tangled beneath the water, and Ivy's arms were wrapped around her waist. Chelsea held onto her just as tightly. Neither of them seemed able to get close enough.

Passion sat at the opposite end of the bath quietly. Deceit and Suffering were nearby, though Chelsea still barely knew which was which. They were trying not to stare. Chelsea lowered her chin against Ivy's shoulder and closed her eyes. Ivy's hand move slowly over her back.

"Are you excited to join us in Valhalla?" one of the Valkyr asked. Chelsea opened her eyes. For a moment, she tried. She really really did. She tried to find the polite answer. The answer that would not make the room uncomfortable. The Valkyr probably did not mean anything by it. They didn't know her. Nor did they understand what had just happened. There was no way of knowing how much that question hurt. But Chelsea was tired of wearing the mask.

"I don't have many things in my life that bring me genuine joy and happiness," Chelsea said quietly. The words came out low at first, but once they started, she couldn't stop them.

"I was just told that because of a stupid fucking class that I chose to evolve to, I won't get to enjoy the thing I love most in this world for three years." Ivy's arms tightened around her. Chelsea's throat burned.

"No," she said.

"No, I am not… excited." The room remained silent after her quiet outburst. Chelsea knew she was being unfair. Some part of her knew that. Teaching people to read, feeding children, annoying Bea, watching Dewey try new foods, seeing Adriane pretend she was not proud of her, all of that mattered. But her joy was Ivy. This silly elf. This sweet, brilliant, impossible girl who had somehow become the safest part of Chelsea's entire life. And now Chelsea was supposed to leave her behind.

The other Valkyr exchanged glances. Chelsea looked up and met Passion's eyes. The larger woman looked panicked.

"Havoc..." Passion began. Chelsea snapped.

"My name!... Is Chelsea." Passion stopped. Chelsea stood abruptly, water running from her as she reached for a towel on the rack. Her voice rose before she could stop it.

"Chelsea Wixx. Not Havoc. Not the Valkyr of Havoc. The Valkyr of Havoc is a fucking class. My name is Chelsea!" She wrapped the plain white towel around herself and it changed at once. Gold floral patterns spread across the fabric, bright and elaborate. Behind her, Ivy climbed out of the bath in a hurry and grabbed another towel.

"Chels," Ivy called softly.

"Hey, Chels." Chelsea did not look back. She left the bathing room. Her wet feet hit the floor hard as she moved through the hall, not caring who heard. Ivy followed close behind, holding her own towel around herself with one hand. No one stopped them. Chelsea marched straight to their room and shoved the door open. Ivy slipped in behind her, and Chelsea slammed it shut once she was inside. The towel fell away as soon as Chelsea reached the bed. The gold patterns vanished, leaving plain white fabric on the floor.

Chelsea crawled under the blankets and curled up tightly. Ivy climbed in behind her without saying anything. Tears came again. Chelsea pressed her face into the pillow and tried to breathe quietly. One thing was certain. Freya better not show up in her gods damned dreams tonight.