Platinum Blonde // L. Laufeyson

XVIII

The woman with white-blonde hair sat in an Italian trench, ducking as another spray of bullets hit a man beside her. She pulled him down, scrunching her face as she realised that the bullet wounds had killed him on impact. She wasn't able to do much in those trenches, as she was only there to forward life-depending information from the Allies headquarters.

There wasn't much she could do for the men on the battlefront, she only hoped the messages she gave would be useful and that she could make a difference when she was sent to Germany again, hiding as a spy amongst the crowd of Nazi's once more.

A man pulled her down, he was covered in grime and had wounds portraying through his green military uniform. He yelled over the sounds of bombs around them, "what are you doing here? You're crazy, woman!"

December yelled back, "headquarters says I need to make it through the front line as my next mission is on the other side and here is the only way through!"

"A spy?!" He shouted back, barely able to hear her over the sound of machine guns. His left ear was bleeding too, torn to pieces. He probably couldn't hear her well either way.

"For the allies! Why else would I come here!?"

He shook his head, dragging her through the trenches and shoving his way through his comrades. They both ducked as a plane flew overhead, "you're crazy, woman!"

"I think you've said that already!"

He had saved her life, getting her across the line with a small team he had organized. She never knew his name. They were all killed, sacrificing themselves to get her across, believing that whatever she was doing had a chance to end the war.

And December had not forgotten their sacrifices, whispering it to the enemy commander as he slept beside her, an arm casually across her bare waist in his fancy tent. She whispered it to him as he woke up and she slitted his throat, whispered it as she watched with satisfaction as the men found their leader dead in his bed, body still warm, causing an anarchy on the enemies' side and ensuring that the Allies' boys back in the trenches would have a fighting chance.

December had only seen mere glimpse of her father, the one time he had arrived in Asgard after Alfheim and Asgard had partnered in a war, destroying the enemy. She had just spotted him through the legs and bodies of the hundreds of Asgardians, cheering happily as he walked.

And then a few times after that, but never for more than a few seconds at the time.

Queen Frigga would not allow her. As a child December had hated it, but now as she stared in her father's face, she understood.

The man was not fit to be a father and he probably never would be. To find that out as a child would have been devastating.

She interrupted Aegan's fantasies, "Aegan."

The older elf gave her a charming grin, "that's me."

He walked up to her and ran a hand down her arm, before he could go any further. December stopped him. "I'm not sure you want to do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't know you that well, but is it safe to say I hope you're not into incest?"

Aegan froze, his hand instantly dropping as he backed away from the 'servant'. This time he scrutinized her carefully and he questioned how he hadn't noticed earlier. She had his face, his ears and even his hair. The only thing were her eyes... Those weren't his. They were... they were Khione's. He muttered, alarmed, "who are you?"

December pouted, crossing her hands in her laps. "My name is Δεκέμβριος. Recognize it?"

He shook his head, as if wanting to deny the facts. He took another step back as she stood up. "It's Greek... Greek for Dekémvrios."