Bo's POV

The first thing you feel is warmth. There's sunshine kissing your skin, but you barely notice it. You're too busy relishing the lack of ice in your veins, the removal of that dark chi that made you strong even as it chained you down. The next thing you hear is birds, your eyes blink open. You had imagined perhaps you were home, but there are no birdsongs in the city.

You're lying on the grass in a field that belongs in a nature calendar. Wildflowers blossom in the partial shade of tall looming redwoods. You get up and approach the closest one. You've never seen tree so massive, the trunk wider than you can wrap your arms around. You smile, tempted to try. For all your running you never saw very much. One cement jungle after another.

"Never took you for a tree hugger." You whirl around to find Tamsin smirking at you, crossed arms and one hip cocked to the side. You know she's waiting for your smartass comeback, but you're too taken by the change in her. She's a little more tired than you last saw her...but it's not that. There's this sense of-your mind fumbles over the word for a few moments because you can't believe you are attributing it to the Valkyrie-peace.

Tamsin looks peaceful.

You've never seen her like this. Combative, defensive, conflicted, charming, even the occasional horny, but never peaceful, never...content. There's an odd pang in your heart.

"Where are we?" It wasn't what you'd meant to ask, but Tamsin is tricky and something tells you asking Why do you look like you're not itching for a fight wouldn't go too well.

"I don't know succubus. I'm just visiting. But," she looks around briefly before turning her eyes on you for a far more leisurely appraisal, "you look like a virgin ready for sacrifice." She grins cheekily, "Kinky...and more than a little ironic."

You finally look down at yourself. Billowing purple and black has been replaced by glaring white. A gown not too unlike the one Ciara had picked out for you. You feel just as uncomfortable in it. You weren't kidding when you said it wasn't your colour. White is innocent, pure...neither of which you've been for a very long time.

Again you say nothing in return. She's frowning at you now, having noticed that you are off, but you're too busy focused on her. There's something in her eyes. You don't know how you know, but the certainty rips through you so violently you put a hand to your chest almost checking for a wound. Maybe you truly are the daughter of death.

You're tearing up again, you seem to be doing that a lot lately. You blink them away, already noting the growing unease of the blonde Valkyrie. She's dead; you killed her. And now you're both here. Perhaps after sucking her dry, the darkness inside you finally cast you out.

Tamsin raises her hands in alarm, "Easy on the waterworks Succulette. It wasn't you." A conflicting melding of horror and relief engulfs you. You were right, she is dead, but at least it wasn't by your hand.

"What happened?" The last thing you remember is lying on the luscious king sized bed, pillowed on Tamsin's chest, clinging a little tighter than you would like, thankful Tamsin never said a word.

"They came for me. You were asleep. I was on the other side of the room they didn't see," you watch a delicious blush spread across the Valkyrie's cheeks and you have to resist the urge to reach out and seek solace in the warm flush of her skin, in the evidence of her presence and life, "well, one of the Valkyries was an old friend of mine-"

You cock an eyebrow at that. From what you gathered Tamsin isn't really type to accumulate friends, more likely... "And by old friend you mean-"

"Sworn enemy yeah pretty much." She sighs and you notice how she has been absently stroking her side.

Your heart lurches, "She stabbed you?" There's a roar thundering within you, the power in your blood crying out and you can hear it with every damned pump of your heart, "What is her name? What did she look like?"

She's eying you strangely, "Ran me through with a pike; a little retro but a classic." She blows a golden lock out from her eyes and sighs, "Although I'm fairly certain she wasn't acting under orders. I know a personal killing when I see one, or, well" she chuckles but it rings hollow, "when I live one. So basically I get my revenge because Odin is going to be pissed. Trust me. Whatever her punishment will be, it'll make my gutting look like a tea party." She's glaring at you intently now, "So don't you go being stupid and noble and trying to avenge me you hear?"

You'll make no promises, and you know it shows in your eyes because Tamsin lets out a long breath and shakes her head. You don't ask who it was again. You have other ways of finding out. You couldn't promise to let it go even if you wanted to. If this you wants revenge, the part of you that you consider good or at least goodish, you dread the reaction of your dark side to Tamsin's death. 'Dark you' may be lacking in the compassion department but is awfully possessive.

"He'll raise you again. He said he had plans for you." You hope you don't sound as desperate as you feel. You've come to care for the Valkyrie, and maybe you're a little possessive too. The thought of her not fighting Odin by your side feels wrong.

She drifts a little closer now. She's looking at you like that again. Like the time in Lauren's apartment, like the time in your bathtub, and the time in the humans' fae experimental compound. Three times she looked at you with this bizarre mix of wonder and affection; three times you were sure she was going to kiss you.

The first time you were glad she didn't despite your admitted curiosity (how could you not be? A heady rush of a blizzard, cold and dominating that somehow warms and soothes better than the best hot bath.)

The second time you wished she had; you had wanted to taste that strange ambrosia again. You hadn't fed in a while and there she was, calling you perfect, laying you far barer than simple naked skin. And yet she didn't see a monster. You wanted to feel those lips against your own again. To feel that spark just as you had in dark fae hickville. You fed from a blonde that held a certain resemblance to the mysterious Valkyrie later that night. It wasn't a very satisfying feed, a burger when you had a craving for steak.

The third time you were done waiting, the adrenaline was still thrumming a frantic beat in your veins. She'd given up everything she knew and was for you. You wanted to kiss thanks along the line of her jaw; you wanted to carve your frustration down her shoulder blades for being yet another person to sacrifice everything for you. You would have...had she not backed away, had the straits been any less dire you would have probably pulled her back.

And now she's dead and despite Odin's claim of a plan for the blond Valkyrie you're not sure you'll ever have this chance again. The thought sparks a deeper yearning than you knew you possessed, you stand immobilized. Watching her.

"Listen maybe it's because I'm dead, or perhaps there's something in the air here, but here's the truth, there's something between us."

You open your mouth to interject but she presses her index and middle fingers to your lips, "I don't mean feelings," she stretches the last word, positively grating it to Swiss cheese in her distaste, but you hear the underlying nervousness. She has feelings. Perhaps they sicken her, but they're there. This shouldn't be a surprise really, given recent events, but regardless of how much dark chi you suck from the fallen warriors' of Valhalla your heart remains a wounded muscle with a suicidal tendency of leaping first. The reminder borne of the softness in her gaze is welcomed. Needed.

"What I mean is...there's something physical, biological, perhaps even..." she trails off, her fingers sliding slowly from your lips to rest over your heart. You cannot help but note the similar situation, to wish she were once again touching skin instead of cool silk.

"What Tamsin?" You didn't mean for your voice to come out so breathy, and you watch her pupils dilate in reaction.

"Legendary," the fingers against you twitch slightly, "pre-destined." She's being truthful yet so very vague. But unlike Dyson or Trick who held things back to protect you, you can tell Tamsin is protecting herself. You don't like it, but you respect it. Weren't you just bemoaning your tattered heart?

"I've never been one to put much stock in destiny."

Tamsin chuckles, her hand falling away, you take in a deep breath but it does little to ease the tension of the moment, "Says the one who was foretold by the nain rouge to defeat the garuda...and then went ahead and did."

"You mean the half pint who stalked me and told me I had to defeat the garuda, thereby making everyone else think I had to defeat him. And then with my friends (you are a little disturbed that you are willingly putting Vex in that category) and a hell of a lot of luck we kicked his feathery ass. That's not destiny."

She's peering down at you intently, you wish you were wearing your heels to help counter the height difference. Your bare toes curl into the grass at the thought.

"Is that why even before in Valhalla when I was..." you search for a word but all fall short. Kenzi had taken to calling your alter ego Dark Bo or Bad Bitch Bo. Neither are capable of describing the coiling, cold dark power that had made you feel so grounded and connected to everything, and yet everything else, all that you were...all that you are...was left in a haze.

"Even before, I was drawn to you." You can't help the quirk to your lips as you continue, "I didn't know if I wanted to eat you alive or keep you safe. I just knew I wanted you for myself."

Tamsin doesn't answer, she just smiles at you, soft and beautifully serene. You find you cannot help but match hers. Things are even more messed up than before, but you somehow feel a little more grounded. Perhaps some of her strange post-mortem tranquility is rubbing off on you.

Your closeness lasts for a few more moments before she steps away and runs a hand through her hair, "I have to go."

You blink, nonplussed, "You can't just tell a girl she may have some great destiny with you and then take off." You're smiling, albeit also completely serious.

She smirks, " I know," a finger runs down your cheek and your eyelashes flutter embarrassingly under the gentleness of her touch, her smile widens, "You were right about Odin. He will raise me. But there are fates worse than death, and there is no guarantee that we will see one another again."

You open your mouth to argue- to rail against her resignation or perhaps promise you will find her because that's what you do for people you care about- but then she's surging into you with that same urgency from Brazenwood. It's fast and hard and messy and utterly perfect. She pulls away just as you try and pull her more fully into your arms,

"I know you will try, and if I was a betting woman I'd place it all on you," your lip quirks, you've learned a thing or two about the blonde Valkyrie in recent weeks,

"You are a betting woman Tamsin. And I think you already put it all on me the moment you didn't take me to Valhalla."

She crinkles her nose but chuckles, "Yeah. I guess you're right. Maybe that's why I'm telling you this now. I'm still blaming it on the dead thing. I always seem to get a bit sentimental after I expire." Her sardonic grin fades as she turns serious, "It terrifies me Bo. What this all could mean. Putting aside the shitshow that is a Valkyrie having feelings and not even getting into that weird love quadrilateral, pentagram or whatever the fuck it is that you've got going on..." for a moment she's scrutinizing you with such intensity and yet you have the feeling she isn't seeing you at all, "You're the daughter of Odin-"

"And the granddaughter of the Blood King." It's meant to be a quick quip, but given by the gaping look on her face, she didn't know. Somehow you assumed she would have known, either been given the information by those that sent her after you, or Tamsin would have dug it up on her own. It's even a greater kept secret than you realized.

"WHAT? You're Trick's grandkid!" Tamsin runs both hands through her hair now, staring down at the ground and releasing a slow breath, "So not helping here hotpants."

"Sorry. But you are being honest so here's me, being honest. I'm the daughter of the Blood King and I can use my blood to put people under my thrall."

She's shaking her head in stunned bemusement, you watch her debate asking about your blood, but she seems to brush the thought aside. Maybe she doesn't want to know. "Look this is not going to be easy Bo. I'm not going to be easy."

You lace your fingers through her belt loops and this time she lets you draw her into you, "For the first few weeks after we met you were trying to lock me up or hand me over to the dark fae firing squad-"

She laughs, low and rough, the sound igniting goosebumps down your arms. She shakes her head with something bordering on nostalgia "Firing squads are so 1856 succubabe."

You frown knowing there's a story in there, but you were making a point, "My point is," you enunciate every word, dragging it out until she finally looks you in the eye again, "I better than most know just how difficult you can be. And I want you anyway." The words ring heavy with promise and you swallow thickly, "I want you fighting by my side. " Tamsin seems to tense and relax all at once.

You're still more than a little confused about everything, but undeniable wanting. Desiring the euphoria of her taste and the way you tremble under her touch. You can't help the small pout on your lips as she takes hold of both of your hands, and holds you at arms length.

" As much as I'd love to indulge in this sweet cheeks," she pauses as her eyes seem to take in every dip and curve of your body, "believe me" the words are growled under her breath, "we have company."

You turn to see an unmistakable figure watching from some twenty feet away. "Oh no!" your heart plummets, you didn't think things could get any more difficult. You should have known better, "It's the nain rouge."

"I know." You turn back to look at her, knowing how the harbinger of doom's appearance isn't your typical fae education. You even had to describe to Dyson and Hale what she looked like.

She easily reads your confusion, "We've already exchanged words." She doesn't look too happy about it... you don't blame her, the kid never comes bearing good tidings and fruit baskets.

You turn back to the nain rouge and groan. You know you should hear what she has to say, but part of you wants to be petty and walk in the opposite direction. There is a hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear, "I hate goodbyes succubus. Stay strong." You don't turn to look at her, you feel it the instant she vanishes. The air is just a little bit colder.

You stomp your way over to her, crushing a few wildflowers in your frustration. You're yelling out to her once you're sure you are within earshot, "Oh great am I in limbo again?" You look around as if taking in the scenery for the first time, "Although I've got to say the decor has majorly improved."

The nain rouge hesitates to answer just as she always does. Fae customs dictate that you don't speak to the nain rouge. You should take the warning inherent in her presence. Trick told you as much, but you've never been one to follow the rules. And you figure the twerp owes you for taking out the big bad garuda last year.

"No. Not this time. You're dreaming. You are beyond my reach when you are awake, the gates of Valhalla are not open to me." She looks petulant at this thought and you bite back a smirk, you have bigger fish to fry. The girl is here again and that means nothing good.

"So am I caught up in another great legendary doom?"

The nain rouge simply nods. You let out a weary sigh. Ageless omnipresent fae or not, the munchkin needs a timeout.

"Okay," you draw the word out in exasperation, getting information from the half pint is always frustrating, "is it Oden? Because that's the biggest threat I've got on my plate at the moment."

You swear she's dragging it out to annoy you, but finally she shakes her head, "No. But he is a major player."

You're pacing in front of her now. You don't need any more problems right now. You want to tell her to stuff her prophecies and warnings, to scram and darken someone else's door. But it's too much to be a coincidence. Tamsin tells you she thinks you and her may be somehow bound by destiny...after talking to the nain rouge for that matter...and now she's here to speak with you.

"Is Tamsin a major player?" You already suspect the answer but find conflicted comfort in her nod nevertheless. She's dragged into the mess with you, but at least she'll be by your side.

"Okay. Enough twenty questions. What's the big bad threat?"

The nain rouge crinkles her nose in distaste at your demand, at your gall. You're certain for a moment that she won't answer you. You watch with surprise as cold ageless eyes soften, you aren't sure what you're seeing on her face, but you're unreservedly confident that you're the first to see it.

"You."

Oh. You gulp thickly, the horror sits like lead in your stomach. Yet you think that perhaps you saw this coming. Despite the assurances your friends and family...you are a monster.

Sorry about that ending. I'll try and update soon. I'd love to know what you think. Or anything you'd like to see in future chapters.