"Godlike : Stolen Thunder" by Amanda Rosberg Olsson

Rubol Stormwielder was sitting by the generous fireplace, a tankard in his hand with one leg flung over the side of the armchair. His brown hair spilled over his shoulders and his hazel eyes seemed engrossed by the dancing flames. He paid the newcomer as little attention as the rest, with full confidence in the two heavily armed goons by the door. A sheathed broadsword lying casually on the table in front of the young man also served to warn off anyone who might have wanted to start something.

But the stranger didn’t say anything nor made any sign to take one of the few empty seats, and conversation subsided, suspicion spreading through the other guests. Finally a waitress felt compelled to ask the figure to sit down or leave the establishment and then it started to walk. Dinner had been served and taken away hours ago, and thus there were only a few serving girls left, to fill up empty tankards with ale, wine or honey mead.

The hooded one made its way through the room, towards the hearth and the seemingly very relaxed Rubol. He did not look up when the late arrival came to stand next to him, closer to the sword than its owner.

“Do you mind if I sit down, Stormwielder?” The voice was hoarse although it carried a certain lightness to it. Rubol kept his eyes on the flames.

“Why would you call me by that name?” He kept his own voice calm and unengaged although his heart fluttered in his chest. So the messenger has already made its way here.

The stranger extended a thin graceful hand and just barely touched a worn out and barely visible emblem on the broadswords scabbard. Once one had clearly been able to see lightening cleaving a dark sky.

“Either you are a Stormwielder or you have killed one and stolen his thunder. Rubol looked up into the, from his viewpoint visible, woman’s face. Her eyes was blue and her skin fair.

“You must be educated to know the customs of such a small insignificant house.” The woman smiled and sat down in another armchair across the table without waiting for Rubol’s concent.

“I have learned that very few things in this world is insignificant.” The third son of the Stormwielder averted his eyes from the stranger and once again stared into the fire. “I’m sorry by your loss by the way.” Rubol only raised an eyebrow in answer. His father had been an old man. In his youth he had been a warrior: a true bearer of his name. But after his ascension as duke of Thunder’s Flight and his marriage to the mother of his children, he had become lazy and fat. Rubol had always despised him for it, there had never been any love or respect between them. And now my brother is duke. Rubol wondered if he would follow in their father’s footsteps.

“Will your brother not want you at home?” Had anyone else asked the question, Rubol would have considered it crossing the line. But when she said it, it seemed to be in place, that she, and the world, had a right to know. Everything.

“I’m not needed nor do I wish to be.” He didn’t bother to ask how, and why, the strange woman would know so much about his family’s affairs. “So I’ll just stay here until another job comes along.”

“Mercenary.” Rubol looked at the stranger again and found her smiling, it irritated him, what could be so amusing about his situation.

“Yes.” There was nothing more to be said about it. “And what brings you here all alone?” He said it just to make her mouth do anything but smile.

“What makes you think I’m alone?” Her voice was as smug as the smirk still lingering on her lips. Rubol shrugged.

“If you had companions, they would most likely be here with you as it is forbidden to camp in the forest and the wind never stops howling over the plains. So what brings you here, all alone?” The woman waited a few moments before answering.

“I have recently parted ways with my companion of many years and I’m looking for someone ells to journey with.”

“Must you always have someone with you?”

“No, but I have found it much more rewarding than solitude.”

Rubol snorted.

“I find it comforting, you can always trust yourself.” The woman laughed a light sparkling laugh. It was not as though she was laughing at him, but at her self and the world itself. Rubol felt his mood lighten.

“I’d say that it’s easier to know the truth about others than to know the truth about one’s self.”

“If so, why did you part with your last companion?”

The woman sighed and drew back her hood. Golden hair spilled out and she raised a hand to call over a serving girl. She ordered a glass of wine before answering his question.

“Mar found and joined with me because he wanted to change his person, when he realised that he could not do that, he became furious and it became obvious that the partnership was over.” Her voice was calm and when the girl came with her wine she took the goblet in her hands without tasting it.

“And was he able to change who he was?” Rubol tried to hold back his sudden curiosity, there was something compelling about the woman, but he couldn’t tell if it was her beauty or her strange ways, or both. Probably both.

“Of course, everyone can change, but Mar never really wanted to.” Rubol leaned back in his chair before realising that he had bent forward. There was but one question in his min. Could this woman give his life the meaning he was never able to find at Flight Castle? First he thought so, but after one more look at her face he was sure of it. Before he could open his mouth to ask she spoke:

“Would you let me join you, wherever you’re going next?” At first Rubol felt stunned by her directness but then he hurried to nod his acceptance. Then they both sat gazing into the fire, none saying a word. Rubol put his ale aside, no longer tempted to drink itm while the woman was sipping her wine.

Time passed and for the first time in years, Rubol experienced community with another person.

Neither kept track of how long they say there but when the woman rose, the room was nearly empty.

“You have room, I assume.” Her statement seemed unnecessary. Rubol nodded and rose as well and then led the way up two stairs. The room they reached wasn’t small but neither was it large. The bed was thin.

The woman took of her cape, threw it over a chair and then turned to Rubol.

“This partnership will abide to my rules, and my rules only, do you understand?”

Rubol sighed and nodded.

“Yes, yes, I get it; no sex. I’ll just go and sleep by the door.” He stepped to move past her but she stopped him and with her hands on his cheeks, she steered his lips to her own. The kiss was fiery and Rubol hardly noticed that she pushed him toward the bed and tugged at his tunic. He tore away for a moment to catch his breath and asked her for her name.

“Laren.” Was all she said before pulling him down onto the bed, hardly wearing anything. Their embrace was passionate and Rubol felt their connection deepen with every moment and every kiss.

Afterward when close to sleep he held her in her arms and a questions occurred to him.

“Mar... couldn’t he also be here at the inn? What became of him?” At first the woman who called herself Laren didn’t answer, just snuggled closer to him.

“I killed him.”

Rubol Stormwielder closed his eyes and though about his father.He did not notice his broadsword beginning to hum, nor the woman's hand reaching out for it.