‧. .ˋˏʚ♡ɞˎˊ. .‧

Maya hated taking the afternoon bus home. 

Not only was it stuffy and cramped, but there were one too many boneheads driving with her who thought it was acceptable to ‘accidentally’ bump into her or tug on her coils because they looked ‘unique and interesting’. 

She couldn’t wait to get out, plop down and unwind with instant microwaved food. 

Mmm, lasagne sounds good right now. Her mouth watered at the thought. 

However, Maya forgot she had a Valkyrie at home. The smell of freshly cooked food invaded her nostrils when she opened the front door. 

The warm and spicy scent of beef, potatoes, carrots, swede, and leeks boiling into a stew made Maya blind from reverie. She opened the lid and saw that the meat and vegetables were tender, flowing with brown sauce.

Hunger pains gripped her.   

“You’re. Home.” Val greeted Maya with a smile and put her hands on her shoulder. 

Maya almost had a heart attack from the sudden touch and looking at Val’s new outfit. 

She wore dark blue jeans and a loose t-shirt, knotted at the waist to reveal her midriff and abs so refined one could shred cheese on them.

Maya’s heart could barely take it. 

In Val’s hands, she held an apron she wore for cooking. Maya cursed for being too late to see her in it, but she was also glad Val wasn’t wearing it. 

Maya wouldn’t have survived seeing it. Her face was already overheating and fanning was getting strenuous. She thought she was prepared to look at the Valkyrie, having bought the outfits for her and sharing some of hers. 

She was woefully wrong. 

“Cooked some dinner. For us.” Val gestured to the kitchen area. “Sit. Relax. I’ll be there. Shortly.” 

Val carried two plates in her hands and set them gracefully on the table. She brushed her hair back on the left side, tucking it behind her ear, revealing the neat braids woven there.

“What’s wrong?” asked Val. She noticed Maya staring. “You’re not. Eating.” 

“Ah, sorry, I got distracted.” Maya shook her head and took a bite. 

Maya rarely cooked—she was simply terrible at it. 

She disliked everything she made and settled for whatever she craved at the moment: instant food, takeout, or poorly prepared egg dishes, since eggs were the one thing she couldn’t completely mess up... most of the time.

Her snacking habit didn’t help either. Her diet suffered immensely as university drained so much of her energy that she couldn’t muster the effort to care after a long day.

Stress was another battle she struggled to handle, making it all the harder to break out of these patterns.

With Val here, Maya had access to home-cooked meals nearly three times a day, which tasted like they came from the heavens itself. She would never trade her for anyone or anything else. 

“What is the stew called? It’s good.” 

“Lapskaus,” Val answered with an accent. “Norwegian dish. Easy to cook. Great for many. People.” 

“Do you cook often?” 

Blowing at her food, Val took a bite. “Yes, lots of. Dead.” 

The word sent a shiver down Maya’s spine. “Dead? Like those Draugr?” 

Val grimaced, irritated. “No Draugr. We serve only. Worthy Warriors. Cook and Serve. Food and Beer. Draugr are evil. Malicious.” 

That was one of the longest instances she heard Val talk about her life. Nothing worked so far to jog Val’s memory.

This is my chance to help her.

“Are there many of those, ehm, gallant undead warriors?” 

“Thousands. Too many. To count.” Val took another bite. “They serve. The All-Father. We bring them. To the Hall. When they die. Valiantly. Becoming. Einherjar.”

‘Einherjar’. Maya knew the word. Austin told me they are warriors who prepare for the apocalypse. Valkyries scoop up their souls the moment they die in battle. 

She gave Val another look. She often had to remember how special Val truly was. Though, despite her impressive background and appearance, she still looked like an ordinary woman. 

Maya felt lucky to have her sit before her.

“Have you been a Valkyrie for long?”

“I- hmm.” Val placed her spoon down. She tugged at her side braid. “Not. Remember…” 

Oh no, not good. Her speech pattern is breaking! 

Whenever Val remembered certain things in her past, it impeded her ability to speak more than usual. It was as if her brain lacked admin rights to access the information.

Yesterday was so bad that Val could only smile and move like a rusty robot waiting for a Windows update. Maya shuddered at the thought. Better change the subject. 

“Valkyries are mostly women, no?” Maya spread out her hands and chuckled nervously. “Sounds like a lucky place to be, haha.” 

Idiot! Maya grew red. What in Hel’s name are you babbling about? 

Val smiled brightly. “Your laugh. It’s adorable.” 

“Ah, thanks, haha.” Maya’s face changed to a deeper hue of red. “I love your smile.” 

Fooooool! Maya’s brain screeched at her. Stop talking. You’re just embarrassing us! 

I knooooow! Maya yelled back. What am I supposed to do!?

How should I know!? Maya’s brain cried back. Then, it had an idea. I know. Let’s go with Plan T. Just finish the food and stop talking! 

Good thinking brain.

I know. That’s why I’m the smart one.

Val chewed slowly. Each bite felt like a drag. She didn’t really find much joy in cooking, but it was part of her life as a Valkyrie. The rest was a mishmash of glimpses and fragments. Like the more stressful days outside of the battlefield. The Moments when her cooking went unappreciated or how tired she often was afterwards. 

Imagine cooking for thousands of unruly warriors, feasting like there was no tomorrow. Val's headaches were constant whenever they demanded for more and more. That’s all her subconscious reminded her of when she took a passive bite, leaving it bitter and bland.

Yet whenever Maya laughed, her face turning red when flustered, or her eyes twinkled as they locked with hers, Val was happy.

Even more so was how much Maya appreciated her cooking. For the first time, Val could truly savour the next bite—the creamy consistency, the rich pork, and the earthy, rustic flavour of the potatoes. But what truly mattered was watching Maya finish her meal, her expressive enjoyment shining through every bite. That simple, heartfelt reaction was more than the recovering Valkyrie could have ever asked for.

“How was the food?” asked Val, and rested her chin on her hand. “Did you enjoy it?” 

Maya licked her glossy pink lips, dimples formed on the corners of her mouth. “A thousand times better than my cooking. Never leave, please. It’s too good.” 

“Sure,” Val replied with a twinkle. “I won’t. Leave. I’ll cook for you. Every. Day.” 

“I-” Maya’s cheeks reddened up to her ears. “I’d like that. A lot.” 

YES! her brain screamed.

“Do you want. Seconds?” 

Maya shook her hands before her. “It’s good, but I shouldn’t-” her stomach audibly grumbled. Maya covered her face in shame and offered her plate.

Val laughed and stood up. She rested her hand briefly on Maya’s shoulder and looked into her blue eyes. “Be right back, dúllan mín.”