The Benevolent Warrior (Fandral Fanfiction #1)

[14] Asgard is a People

"Asgard," all of the citizens, clad in their tunics and gowns, unadorned with the realm's shimmering sun, stood at the sound of Heimdall's booming voice. "She is coming."
Screams echoed through the cave as children scrambled back to the safety and comfort of their mothers and the men cradled them.
Fandral exchanged glances with Ashildyr before stepping out into the centre to speak.
"My fellow people, I know you're afraid. We should be. Our home is burning and there will be nothing left when Ragnarok descends. Hela will take everything from you: your home,  your freedom,  even your lives. But she cannot take away your faith; your faith in each other and your faith in our final home." He spared a second to smile at his wife. "I vowed long ago to protect and serve the realm,  to even lay down my life if need be. Last night, I was killed at the hand of Hela, but Odin graced me with a second chance,  a chance to protect and serve you..." he saw now that there was no stopping his next words and that Ashildyr would have to hear them, "and I would gladly lay it down once more to see Asgard live."
Inspired cheers echoed in a rumble.
"What do we do now?" one man shouted out from the hubbub. "Hela is coming! Not all of us can defend ourselves!"
"The children!" one woman yelled out.
Fandral, sensing an uproar was brewing, looked to Heimdall. He gave no answer.
Fandral brandished his blade.  "Every able bodied man and woman will be given a sword. I understand we have supplies saved from the armory?" To this,  Heimdall gave a small nod. "Right. We will split into two groups, led by Heimdall and myself. We're short on time,  but I've been assured that Thor and his new friends will join our forces when the time comes."
"Make that three groups!" a third voice chimed in. Fandral spun around and saw Ashildyr standing tall, a quiver of arrows at her back, holding a strong-willed bow. He struggled for his words.
"Hildyr," he gasped, "No. No,  I can't let you-"
She strode straight on past him,  roughly colliding her shoulder with his.
"It wasn't a suggestion," she replied.

The crowd dispersed frantically into the melee and all Fandral could see was Ashildyr. And all she could see was him over the passing faces.
He made the first move towards her and she,  as if magnetized, drew to him. They circled one another,  eyes locked.
"I've got a bad feeling about this,  Hildyr." Fandral confessed, taking her wrist in his hand. He felt the coarse leather of her bracer against the skin of his forearm. She was ready.
"Fret not,  my love." She smirked,     "Whatever happens, we remain together."
He grinned. It truly was something to taste his own words of comfort. He looked down at their now entwined fingers.
"You come back to me, Ashildyr Thomas."
She smiled sweetly and kissed his stubbled cheek. "And you to me, my Dashing Prince."
She pulled away from him,  reaching for an arrow to notch into her bow string.
"Be careful. Please." He called after her.
She turned, still smiling like her old self again and said, "Always."