“Fuck prophecy.”
 
Sigryn, as it turned out, was a red headed tomboy. And sure, maybe most of the female Vrykul that he’d met so far could be put in the ‘tomboy’ category, but there was a difference between your average shieldmaiden and Sigryn, daughter of God-King Skovald. There was a rough jaggedness to Sigryn that most of the other Vrykul women Harry had met so far simply didn’t have.
 
But then to be fair, the young shieldmaiden had had a rough go of it recently. Her family had been murdered by assassins, and she was the only one to survive the event. That alone gave her plenty of sympathy in Harry’s book, but on top of that, she was a child of prophecy… something that the green-eyed wizard had plenty of personal experience dealing with.
 
He was glad now that he’d chosen to come here alone rather than with Bretta and Ashildir by his sides. He’s not sure how they would have reacted to Sigryn’s… attitude. Sitting at her camp outside of Jandvik, Harry chuckles softly and inclines his head towards the caustic shieldmaiden.
 
“Fuck prophecy indeed.”

Sigryn glares at him for a moment, but ultimately turns her head away. While his assistance in Jandvik had given him a foot in the door so to speak, the red headed Vrykul hadn’t been thrilled when he’d first begun speaking. Telling her why he had been looking for her had caused her to snarl at him to get out of her presence before he could even finish his explanation.
 
When he refused, she had snarled again, this time demanding a duel. Harry had managed to talk her down to a simple wrestling match and promised to leave if she managed to pin him for a three-count. Needless to say, Skovald’s daughter didn’t think much of Harry, given he was half her size. She’d readily agreed, only to end up being the one pinned for a three-count, a five-count, and finally a full ten-count before she’d at last accepted her defeat.
 
Perhaps he could have just dominated her sexually right then and there, but Harry had held off on doing anything of the sort. He couldn’t say why, there had been better women then Sigryn who hadn’t earned a reprieve. He’d fucked and broken countless females of all shapes and sizes, of all colors and stripes, from every single walk of life on Azeroth and beyond.
 
Perhaps it was the prophecy. Knowing how important Sigryn was didn’t necessarily protect her from him, but knowing she was stuck with such a shitty hand definitely made him pity her more than he normally would. In the end, he’d decided to talk to her properly first… to try and convince her the old fashioned way for once. Namely with words, rather than the end of his dick.
 
Of course, after he’d given the slightly sheepish warrior woman the explanation in full on why he was out looking for her, Sigryn’s brashness had been quite to reassert itself when she spouted those two words. Fuck prophecy.
 
Giving her a tired grin, Harry shakes his head, emerald eyes flashing.
 
“It’s not as bad as it could be, Sigryn. At least your prophecy is relatively clear.”
 
Scoffing at that, Sigryn throws her red mane over her shoulder in a contemptuous toss.
 
“Hmph. What would you know of such things?”
 
Harry smirks at that.
 
“I was once in your shoes. The child of a prophecy, one between me and a Dark Lord… a very evil wizard. If I didn’t stop him, he would have lived forever and eventually he would have come to rule my world, sending it spiraling into an era of darkness. I had to stop him. Me, a child, against a man more than thrice my age. I succeeded of course. But not without sacrifice. And sometimes I wonder… was it truly worth it?”
 
Sigryn stares at him now, no longer scoffing, no longer contemptuous. He has her right where he wants her, hanging off of every word. Quirking his mouth into a more rueful smile, Harry nods.
 
“It was. The world that I and my friends made in the wake of his death is a world I was proud of. A world I… well, that I sculpted with my own two hands.”
 
He leaves off the words he actually wants to say. That his world is a world he would do anything to get back to. Not only does he not want to burden Sigryn with his problems when she has her own to grapple with at the moment, but also… the words ring hollow even unspoken in the depths of his mind. How hard had he really even tried to return to his old world, to his women?
 
He could blame Jaina a thousand times for trying to prevent him from leaving her and Azeroth behind, but in truth, at least part of the blame lay at his feet as well, didn’t it? He had, ultimately, let her distract him. He’d let her keep him busy. He’d let Azeroth’s problems, as great as they were, supersede his own. And worst of all, knowing what he knew now, if he had to go back and do it all again, he just might. He’s not sure he’d change a single damn thing.
 
“… I don’t want to fight my father. I know he is lost to the Fel, to his new masters. I know the Burning Legion will bring ruin to our world if he’s allowed to succeed. I just…”
 
Harry’s heart goes out to her. Truly it does. Reaching over, he places a hand on Sigryn’s forearm, giving it a comforting squeeze as she freezes for a moment before relaxing into his touch.
 
“No child should have to fight their parent. No daughter should be tasked with slaying her father. If I could take on this burden for you myself, I would.”
 
It’s true too, he would. However, Sigryn was needed all the same. Sure, Harry could go and kill Skovald right this moment and then try and make the God-King’s daughter fulfill the prophecy. After all, the prophecy said nothing about Sigryn being the one to deal the final blow to her own father. The prophecy, her prophecy, was actually much nicer than his own.
 
There was no one man she had to defeat. No great evil she had to vanquish. All she had to do was be the ruler she was meant to be. To unite the Vrykul Clans once more and turn the Tideskorn against the Burning Legion. She and her people were not the only line of defense, nor the only weapon to be used against the Burning Legion’s onslaught. But they were a critical one, of that Harry had no doubt.
 
And that was why he wanted Sigryn with him when he finally confronted her father. She needed the reputation. She needed the acclaim. The God-King would be defeated by his own daughter, and Sigryn would rise to be God-Queen in his place, untainted by Fel and any association with the Burning Legion. She didn’t even necessarily have to deliver the killing blow. Perhaps Harry would be the one to do so… but only if it wouldn’t detract from her victory.
 
Sigryn needed to be seen by her people and everyone else as the leader she could be, rather than the puppet Harry was propping up. Even if the latter might end up being truer than the former. Though he intended to at least put an effort into making sure it turned out otherwise. That was why he was here talking after all, rather than anything else.
 
“… However, you are the only one who can. Forget the prophecy. You are the one who will bring Skovald to task. You are the one who will unite the Tideskorn behind your banner and turn them against the Burning Legion. You are the one who will save your people.”
 
Sigryn’s eyes flash and her brow furrows in confusion.
 
“In one breath you say forget the prophecy, and in the next you list all the ways I will fulfill it. If I don’t believe in this damn prophecy, why should I believe myself capable of all of those things you just mentioned?”
 
Harry smirks at that and leans back, hands on his legs as he squares his shoulders.
 
“You will accomplish all of those things not because of any prophecy, but because of me. Because I say you will accomplish them, and because I will be at your side, helping you every step of the way. More than that though… you will accomplish all of those things because deep down inside you know you can not merely stand aside while the things around you happen. You know you can no longer run. It is time to stand and fight, Sigryn. It is time to act.”
 
For a long moment, Sigryn is quiet as she stares at him, eyes dark and face unreadable. Harry can tell his words have had an impact all the same on her. He waits patiently and almost… contently for her to respond. She will not deny him this. He can feel it in her bones. Finally, her eyes slip to the side and her head follows as she looks away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. At long last she capitulates.
 
“… Very well. You’re right. My people suffer under my father’s rule. They will suffer even more if the Burning Legion is allowed to win. I will help you stop them. Where do we begin?”
 
Chuckling, Harry shakes his head.
 
“That’s up to you, my dear. As I said, I will help YOU. The Tideskorn are your people. The Vrykul are your people. Where do you wish to start?”
 
Looking caught off guard by having the ball thrown back into her court, Sigryn blinks owlishly for a moment. She considers Harry’s words for a few quiet seconds before sighing. Obviously, she already thinks she knows where they must start, she just doesn’t want to admit it to herself let alone Harry. But finally, she gets over her own personal hang-ups.
 
“… Whether the prophecy is real or not, we can probably get some ideas from there. We will need to seek an audience with Eyir to shed more light on exactly what I am supposed to be doing going forward.”
 
Giving him a rueful grin, Sigryn tosses her red mane again, this time with a bit more… flare.
 
“Hmph. You are a strange, small creature, Harry Potter. But also quite strong. I suppose traveling with you for a time will not be too much of a hardship. Let us be off. The journey to Eyir will not be easy or short.”
 
Harry smiles, pleased to see Sigryn warming up to him. That said…
 
“I don’t imagine it would be… so why not skip all that? If we want to talk to Eyir, I’ll just summon her right now.”
 
His smile morphs into a wicked grin as Sigryn looks baffled by his words. To her, his declaration must have seemed absurd. But even as her brow is furrowing in incredulity and her mouth is opening to say who knows what, he merely holds up a hand… and snaps his fingers. The air beside him grows bright with golden energy as the golden Goddess of the Val’kyr appears right beside him.
 
The look on Sigryn’s face after that is absolutely priceless.
 
… Yeah, he was all that and a bag of chips.
 
-x-X-x-
 
When the small male had first approached Sigryn’s camp, the shieldmaiden hadn’t known what to make of him initially. She had kept herself apart from Jandvik, but not so far apart from the town that she wasn’t aware of its troubles or of its savior. The human Harry Potter had earned her ear for that much at least, but when he’d started going on about prophecy and her fighting her own father, she had become far less inclined to listen to him.
 
However, despite his diminutive size, he had refused to back down when she’d threatened him with bodily harm. One thing had led to another and she’d found herself engaging in a wrestling match with the man. A wrestling match she had somehow lost. To say she’d been humiliated by her defeat at his small yet insanely strong hands would be an understatement. Never had the female Vrykul been so thoroughly trounced by someone practically half her size.
 
In the wake of that, she had felt obligated to hear him out. And truth be told, she’d found that the human wizard had a surprising way with words. He’d shared his own experiences with her, and ultimately she had found herself moved by his speech. She’d found herself in agreement with him by the end of his explanations and entreaties towards her.
 
… And then he’d gone and done something patently ridiculous. It was one thing to suggest that they could summon Eyir to them rather than having to travel to her themselves. That alone was blasphemous. But to then DO it… Sigryn was shocked. For a moment, she wondered if there was trickery afoot. Especially given how the Eyir that the human wizard had summoned was… well, dressed.
 
The red headed shieldmaiden had only ever seen Eyir’s likeness in artwork to be fair. Painted, carved, and sculpted. Those were how she’d ever borne witness to Eyir’s majesty. She’d certainly never been lucky enough to get to see the Val’kyr Goddess in the flesh before today. Even still, she couldn’t help but feel a disconnect between the golden visage in front of her and the statues erected all over Stormheim in her honor.
 
The Val’kyr Goddess’ skirt has been shortened to the point that it barely covers her leaking, naked cunt. Meanwhile, she’s wearing stilettos that accentuate her legs and thighs, as well as add to her already massive height, practically forcing most mortals to gaze up at her sex. Her breastplate has become so skimpy that it pushes her tits up even more, to the point that her nipples are constantly threatening to pop out.
 
Sigryn’s first reaction is very fair, or so she feels. It’s incredibly obvious at a glance that this is a mockery. A mimicry, even. She’s not sure what Harry gets out of acting like this, but it’s not funny and she’s more than ready to tell the human wizard as much. His illusion is completely out of line and-
 
But then before she can say anything, the true weight of Eyir’s presence hits Sigryn’s shoulders and the shieldmaiden knows beyond a shadow of a doubt in that singular moment that she stands in the presence of the real deal. This is in fact the Goddess of the Val’kyr. This is Eyir in the flesh, as insane and maddening as that seems.
 
“Ah. Sigryn. You’ve found her… Master.”
 
Wait, what?! Sigryn can only gape in absolute shock as Eyir shrinks and drops to her knees at the same time, going down to the size of a normal Vrykul, and then descending to the ground there in Sigryn’s campsite so she can rub her half-helmed face against Harry’s leg like… like some sort of pleasure slave!
 
“I knew you would, Master! I never doubted you for a second!”
 
To his credit, Harry just rolls his eyes, looking exasperated by Eyir’s slavish devotion. But that doesn’t make it any easier for Sigryn to process. Just what is it that she’s witnessing here? What has happened to Eyir? Was she always like this? Was everything Sigryn had been raised to believe wrong? No… that wasn’t possible, unless Harry was Odyn himself.
 
But he couldn’t be, because not only would Odyn never lower himself to taking on a human guise, but all the stories were clear that he was confined within the Halls of Valor due to Helya’s treachery. Harry Potter could not be a guise of Odyn for that reason and that reason alone.
 
For what reason then would Eyir call Harry her Master unless the Val’kyr Goddess’ loyalties had seen a recent shift. But then, how was that possible? Sigryn couldn’t begin to comprehend how it might have happened. Sure, Harry had proven to be unnaturally strong for a human of his size. He had completely manhandled her in their short wrestling match. But that didn’t mean he was capable of breaking a Goddess… did it?
 
Before Sigryn’s mind can run around in circles anymore, Harry reaches out and gives her a nudge, jarring her from her inner thoughts as she looks at him, eyes wide. Chuckling, his own emerald eyes twinkling, Harry shakes his head.
 
“Don’t you have some questions for Eyir, Sigryn?”
 
The shellshocked red head slowly nods at that. She had more than a few, and not all of them pertained to the prophecy any more. In fact, most of them didn’t pertain to the prophecy at this point. However, before the Vrykul female can ask anything, Eyir makes a noise and suddenly reaches out, grabbing Sigryn by the wrist and yanking her down to her knees right beside her.
 
“Ah, of course. Let us talk a moment child.”
 
Sigryn flushes at finding herself suddenly kneeling before Harry alongside the Goddess of her people who called him Master. After their wrestling match, she had almost expected him to take liberties with her. She had been surprised… and maybe a little disappointed when he hadn’t. After all, it was the right of the strong to take from the weak, and the privilege of the weak to enjoy their taking.
 
But now, well… everything felt like it was happening too damn fast.
 
“My vision was fairly clear. Your father will fall no matter what you do and your people will suffer for it. The Burning Legion are not the type to reward even the most loyal of servants. They will destroy the Vrykul, they will ruin the Tideskorn. But you can stop it. If you are the one to make sure your father falls, then the Vrykul people will not suffer nearly as much. The period between their fall and their rise will not be nearly so long.”
 
Even as Eyir speaks in a matter of fact tone, the Val’kyr Goddess’ hands are not idle. Sigryn can only squirm and flush in her grasp as the golden skinned Val’kyr feels her up, caressing her face and lips oddly enough. In the wake of this and the weight of Eyir’s words, Sigryn stutters her response, stammering much to her own embarrassment.
 
“I-I see… G-Goddess… what are you doing?”
 
A delicate sniff leaves Eyir’s nostrils.
 
“I am judging you, Sigryn, daughter of Skovald. I am judging your worthiness.”
 
Sigryn’s eyes narrow at that, and the red head can’t help but bristle. Its not that she doesn’t think Eyir of all people is allowed to judge her or anything… it’s kind of the Goddess’ job, after all. In fact, it was a great honor to be judged by Eyir personally, wasn’t it? Part of her very much hoped that she would be judged worthy.
 
However, another part of her pointed out how unfair it was to have a prophecy about herself, and a man like Harry come and convince her to follow said prophecy, only to then be told she might not be worth of it. That irritates her just enough that she can’t help but speak up.
 
“If the prophecy is not about me, Goddess… then I will happily stand aside, worthy or not. I was given to understand it was though.”
 
Eyir pauses and looks at Sigryn for a long moment, making Sigryn wince at the tone of reproach she’d used. But then the golden Val’kyr just smirks.
 
“You have fire. I like that. But no, daughter of Skovald. You misunderstand me. Your place in the prophecy is not in question. You are the only one who can be God-Queen once your father is slain. However, your place at my Master’s feet is far less assured.”
 
Wait, what? Sigryn stiffens, instinctively scowling at Eyir’s chiding words, but before she can respond, the Val’kyr shocks her again… by pulling Harry’s cock out right then and there. Kneeling between his legs just opposite of the Goddess, Sigryn can only gape at the truly massive, throbbing, bitch breaker that the diminutive human was somehow packing in his trousers. She never would have guessed that someone so small could pack so much HEAT!
 
Sputtering, Sigryn shakes her head at the sight, rearing back as if struck… only to freeze as the full weight of Eyir’s presence once again falls upon her shoulders. Though she cannot see the golden woman’s eyes beneath her half-helm, the Val’kyr nevertheless manages to pin Sigryn with her gaze.
 
“Shush, child. Your outrage is meaningless before the majesty of my Master.”
 
A shudder runs through Sigryn’s body as she’s forced to accept the inherent truth of Eyir’s words. She’s also forced to watch as the Val’kyr begins to lick up and down Harry’s engorged shaft… only for it to get even bigger under Eyir’s attentions, the golden Goddess sucking and slurping away as Harry gets harder and thicker and larger all the while.
 
In between these licks, Eyir continues on.
 
“You will, mm, defeat your father. You will, ah, claim his throne.”
 
Not content with just pleasuring her Master’s cock however, Eyir begins to push Harry’s member forward… right into Sigryn’s face. Frozen in place, the red headed shieldmaiden can do nothing but kneel there as one side of the huge schlong is rubbed against her face and lips, forcing her to breath in his sweat and musky scent in full.
 
“Should you, mm, fail to fulfill the prophecy, your people will never escape the grasp of the Burning Legion. They will suffer at the hands of demons for all eternity. The Tideskorn will never rise again and the Vrykul will be worse than chattel for the Legion’s purposes.”
 
Eyir’s hand suddenly reaches out and wraps around to the back of Sigryn’s head, gripping tightly at her red locks. With her new found grasp, the Goddess slowly slides Sigryn down the length of Harry’s gargantuan member, until they both come to the other end of it and can properly look one another in the eye. As they lean to the side, the human’s massive cockhead mere inches from Sigryn and Eyir’s mouths, the golden Val’kyr smirks.
 
“Do you think you have what it takes to save your people, Sigryn, daughter of Skovald?”
 
She’s woozy, her thoughts foggy and her nostrils flaring unconsciously to breathe in more and more of Harry’s scent not entirely of her own free will. She’s panting now, her chest rising and falling beneath her breastplate. The shieldmaiden tries to get ahold of herself, but it’s damn hard and quite the tall order. Especially when she can look down and cross her eyes to see beads of white, pearly precum dripping from Harry’s cock tip… and into Eyir’s waiting palm.
 
And yet, even with all of this happening, Sigryn holds herself steady and gives the Goddess of the Val’kyr her most determined, challenging glare. Overcoming her shock and disgust and… lust, she scowls mightily.
 
“I will save my people. I will lead the Tideskorn.”
 
Eyir’s responding smile is almost tender and loving, and for a moment Sigryn finds herself relaxing under the somewhat motherly gaze. Then, the grip in her red locks tightens up.
 
“Welcome then… to the cock-maidens.”
 
Sigryn’s barely has time to process Eyir’s baffling words before the Goddess is shoving her right down Harry’s length, forcing her halfway along his cock before her gag reflex stops her from going any further. Choking mightily on the largest shaft she’s ever had the pleasure of witnessing, the red head struggles against Eyir’s grasp. But to no avail. Fighting a Goddess was akin to trying to fight a tidal wave. You could try, but you would inevitably be swept beneath the currents all the same.
 
“GAAAAAAAAAGKH!”
 
In this case, Sigryn’s struggles amount to nothing as she’s forced to deep-throat Harry’s cock. Holding her head in place halfway down his member, Eyir licks at her earlobe before letting out a soft giggle and whispering to her.
 
“To be my instrument… is to be used for my Master’s pleasure as well~”
 
“Ohhh fuck~”
 
Harry’s answering groan as Eyir begins to skull fuck and face rape Sigryn upon his member fills the air, even as Sigryn’s choking, gagging, and gurgling do the same.
 
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
Sigryn struggles mightily, truly she does. While she doesn’t really know how to feel about Harry or… or any of this, she can’t help but find the treatment at her Goddess’ hands to be humiliating. Part of her wants to take it all back. Part of her wants to go further. In the end though, it doesn’t matter what she wants. As her convulsing throat is used by Eyir to pleasure Harry’s cock, Sigryn can do nothing but try to breathe through her desperately flaring nostrils. And even that doesn’t last for long.
 
“HULGHK! HULGHK! HULGHK!”
 
As Eyir pushes her down past the halfway point of Harry’s gargantuan bitch breaker, Sigryn’s throat stretches to the breaking point, her neck bulging obscenely. His cockhead pushes past her esophagus and into her gullet itself, but even then Eyir isn’t content with that much. She continues on until Sigryn’s nose is buried in Harry’s crotch, and her efforts to continue pulling in air are completely stymied by her face being forced to the base of his huge bitch breaking member again and again.
 
Eyir, meanwhile, is not content with just skull fucking Sigryn upon Harry’s shaft. She’s not happy with only that. She wants more, and what the Goddess wants in this case, she gets. Leaning forward, the Val’kyr continues to whisper into Sigryn’s ear as she snakes a hand around and pushes down past the shieldmaiden’s leg armor into her pants.
 
“Let me tell you how Harry Potter became my Master. Let me tell you the tale of his glory.”
 
And so she does. It all sounds insane to Sigryn, but with Eyir being the one to tell it, the red head can’t exactly deny it’s veracity. Especially not when some of the proof is right in front of her.
 
Eyir whispers to her about how Harry dominated and bound Ashildir, before ultimately coming for Eyir herself. She tells her of how Harry fought a Banshee, a Queen of the Dead, in order to claim Eyir properly as his property. She decries Odyn and all he stands for, detailing the ways that Harry is just so much better than him.
 
Such words are blasphemy of the highest order, and yet they come from the lips of the woman who was supposed to punish such blasphemy. Who would punish Eyir for speaking out against Odyn when SHE was supposed to be the arbiter of his justice? Odyn himself? Not likely when he was still trapped in the Halls of Valor, Sigryn supposed.
 
Delirious, Sigryn’s eyes roll around in her head as she continues to gargle on Harry’s cock. Eyir never pushes her down long enough for her to pass out or asphyxiate completely on his gargantuan member, but at the same time, she isn’t getting nearly enough air. The lack of it is starting to get to her, her thinking more and more hazy as she shudders under Eyir’s touch. The golden Goddess’ fingers are buried in Sigryn’s folds at this point, and the combination of lack of air and those digits is actually driving the young red headed shieldmaiden absolutely wild.
 
“And do you know, Sigryn, who sent my Master after you? Do you know who sealed your fate?”
 
Sigryn gurgles upon Harry’s cock, eyes fluttering. She’s not sure she cares to find out… but it’s not like she can tell Eyir that. Nor does she expect the Val’kyr would even listen to her if she could.
 
“Twas your grandmother, Sigryn. Skovald’s mother, freshly broken upon our Master’s cock and eager to bring her own granddaughter into the fold.”
 
Sigryn breaks at that. In more ways than one, especially when Eyir punctuates her statement by harshly pinching Sigryn’s clit. The poor Vrykul woman shrieks as she finally orgasms on Eyir’s fingers, her squealing screams reverberating down Harry’s entire length. This in turn causes the human wizard to grunt and then groan, and there’s a shuddering pulsating sensation that Sigryn instinctively knows heralds his cumming.
 
Just as Harry’s shaft pulses to begin releasing his load however, Eyir callously pulls Sigryn off of his cock and shoves her to the side. The Goddess of the Val’kyr takes her place, swallowing her Master’s cock whole and taking him all the way to the base without issue. She moans in muffled ecstasy as he blows his load right down her throat and she drinks every last drop. The golden woman doesn’t spill even a single ounce of her Master’s cum, but instead gulps it all down until there’s nothing left.
 
Just as she finishes suckling out the last of his load and comes off of his cock with a pop, Harry suddenly moves, fast as lightning. The Goddess barely has time to react before he spins her around like she’s nothing, manhandling her in spite of the power Sigryn could feel radiating off of the golden skinned Val’kyr even now. He slams her face down onto the ground and then sinks his spit-polished cock into her anal passage without hesitation.
 
S-SMACK!
 
“Eep!”
 
With a growl, Harry begins spanking Eyir’s massive upturned ass, even as he plants a boot in the back of her head, forcing her helmeted visage into the dirt.
 
“Selfish bitch.”
 
In response, Eyir squeals in pleasure, shrieking in ecstasy as he pounds her ass for all she’s worth. Eventually, she manages to turn her head just enough to look back at him as she claws at the earth beneath her body.
 
“Mmm~ b-but Master… Sigryn agreed to become my tool! Oooh, it’s only right that I get to use my new toy to pleasure you, Master! And she… nnngh, she hasn’t proven herself worthy of the final p-prize just yet!”
 
Harry snorts derisively at that, continuing to plunder Eyir’s anus. However, as Sigryn watches on, struggling to catch her breath, she begins to realize that fucking Eyir’s ass is not the punishment it first seems. Not with how much the Goddess is absolutely loving it.
 
Meanwhile, Sigryn is watching her people’s religious icon debase herself for cock and cum like… like some loose common whore. Eyir’s eyes might be covered by her helm, but Sigryn can easily imagine the golden woman’s eyes rolled back in her skull as her tongue lolls out of her mouth, pretty much lapping at dirt and rock without a care in the world.
 
The young shieldmaiden can’t help but feel a dark fire welling up within her at Eyir’s words, however. Unworthy? Nothing more than a tool? A toy?! A growl leaves Sigryn’s throat, even as she begins to finger herself to the scene in front of her. She can’t help herself. Harry’s scent fills her senses, and she’s positively beside herself with arousal now.
 
Meanwhile, Eyir is looking more and more insensate by the second as Harry plows her ass silly, fucking her fat golden bubble butt nonstop. In fact… Sigryn sees an opportunity in front of her. An opportunity to make her Goddess, who she’d always idolized and looked up to and respected, eat more than just her words and the dirt she was currently tonguing.
 
Just as Sigryn is about to push onto her hands and knees and crawl forward however, suddenly things change. She hears the snap of a nearby branch as a heavy boot crunches it under foot, and a moment later… they’re under attack.
 
The Vrykul Assassins that leap out of the shadows are honorless curs one and all, but they’re also well trained. If not for Harry, Sigryn has no doubt she would have died in that moment, their wicked daggers curving towards her neck. However, instead of carving her spine out of her body, the blades bounce off of a swiftly erected barrier.
 
Hopping to her feet, Sigryn is surprised when her armor, loosened by Eyir’s amorous intentions, suddenly fixes itself, tightening up and re-buckling itself upon her body. As well, her sword and shield practically fly into her hands from the other side of the campsite.
 
She barely has time to gawk at these sudden events, barely has time to realize it’s all Harry and his magic. Because the next thing she knows, she’s very much fighting for her life. Pleasure and arousal be damned, Sigryn refuses to fall here. She snarls as the assassins come at her, swinging her sword and taking one’s head off in the surprise of her suddenly being armed. The others dance back, readjusting quickly… but truth be told, it’s already too late for them.
 
In the wake of their attack, Harry has pulled his cock out of Eyir’s ass. Not seeming bothered by his state of undress, the human wizard’s emerald eyes glow with power as his hands fly through the air, working great defensive magic. However, that’s nothing compared to Eyir’s response when she finally comes back to herself a split second later.
 
“WHO DARES?!”
 
The Val’kyr Goddess rises to her feet and then flaps her wings, ascending into the sky and growing to her usual size. Naked as can be, her tits having flopped out of her breastplate and her cunt dripping with pussy juices as her gaping ass breathes in and out, the massive golden woman looks down at their assailants… and claps her hands.
 
Harry’s magic protects Sigryn from the worst of the divine shockwave that explodes out from Eyir, but it still buffets the red headed shieldmaiden something fierce, her shield coming up to protect her face from the whipping winds. Meanwhile, their assailants… their assailants don’t survive the attack whatsoever.
 
When Sigryn finally lowers her shield, its to see those who came for her blood haven’t been tossed away like she initially expected… rather, the very flesh has been stripped from their bones, leaving behind skeletons that drop to the ground, all that remains of the assassins who wished to kill her.
 
There’s a momentary beat, and then Eyir shrinks back down to Sigryn’s size. But the Val’kyr doesn’t look happy even then, crossing her arms over her expansive chest. Not to cover it up, but because of how upset she is. She’s pouting mightily too but makes no effort to try to get Harry to return to fucking her. The moment, it would seem, has been ruined.
 
Indeed, Harry is already tucking his cock away as Eyir looks downright upset over not managing to extract another load with her fat golden ass. Truth be told, Sigryn feels a certain level of disappointment as well. Disappointment that things ended the way they had, and disappointment that she hadn’t gotten to take her lumps from Eyir for the other woman’s treatment of her.
 
“What now, Eyir? What should Sigryn do next?”
 
Pouting for a moment longer, Eyir finally drops her upset attitude and dips her head in obedient submission towards the human she’s claimed as her Master.
 
“If Sigryn is to become God-Queen of the Tideskorn, she must destroy her father’s support base while securing her own. There is no point in her leaving rivals and enemies at her back as she goes to confront her father. The God-King Skovald licks his wounds from his latest defeat while preparing for his attack against Odyn.”
 
Eyir pauses for a moment, sounding surprisingly reasonable in spite of her lewd state of dress. Sigryn finds herself hanging off of the Goddess’ every word, much to her own surprise. Eyir looks to her now, speaking directly to Sigryn for this second half.
 
“Runeseer Faljar and Jarl Velbrand. The Runeseer is your father’s creature through and through. Kill him and Skovald’s power will be weakened. The Jarl, likewise, leads the Drekirjar in service to the God-King and his Felskorn. However, the Jarl himself might yet be persuaded to submit and change sides, helping to build your own power as you finally move to confront your father.”
 
Sigryn nods resolutely, feeling resolve and determination alike building within her chest, her shoulders squaring and her head rising as her jaw clenches. She’s eager to prove herself, eager to show she can-
 
Of course, Eyir has to ruin it all mid-thought, suddenly seizing Sigryn by her hair and dragging the young shieldmaiden into a farewell kiss. It’s deep and tongue-filled and altogether searing, but also relatively quick. Especially compared to the lingering kiss that Eyir has with Harry immediately afterwards.
 
As the Goddess of the Val’kyr pulls away, Sigryn wrestles with a dark impulse within her that demands she grab Eyir and yank her back in, forcing her to eat the red head out on the spot. She manages to fight back against the urge but doesn’t manage to completely hide it from Eyir herself. Not if the condescending smile that the golden skinned woman gives her is any indication before she disappears in a flash, returning to her Vault.
 
Sigryn shudders for a moment, trying to get a hold of her feelings. Her lips are thinned out and her teeth are clenched as her hands curl into tight, white-knuckled fists at her sides. She wants… she wants to dominate Eyir. Wants to put the bitch in her place. But Eyir is also her Goddess. She shouldn’t be thinking such things about the Val’kyr. And yet, Eyir didn’t act like a Goddess. She didn’t act like her people’s religious icon. She acted like-
 
“Shall we go?”
 
Snapped out of her thoughts, Sigryn looks to see Harry smiling at her. Flushing in memory of the intimacy Eyir had forced them to share, Sigryn nevertheless nods her head.
 
“… Aye. Let us be on her way.”
 
She’d figure out her feelings later. For now, she had a father to dethrone and a people to save, didn’t she?

-x-X-x-

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