Hornsfirepainclawsfirehandspain...
Carol opened her eyes with a start, gasping and struggling to release herself from the hands she still felt in her dream. Everything hurt, and the light was so bright...
Light?
The forest disappeared as she blinked, still gasping, and she found herself in bed in a sterile white room. A large blond woman in an old-fashioned nurse's outfit held her hand and tutted soothingly, while preventing her from rising.
"Ljúga enn. Þú ert öruggur. Shhhhhhh. Ljúga enn," the woman repeated. "Þú ert öruggur."
Carol had a working knowledge of Icelandic under normal circumstances, but now wasn't one of them. The woman might as well be speaking gibberish. She grabbed one of the soothing hands out of reflex, panic rising in her eyes. Everything hurt...She tried to cry out...to call for help, but no sound would come from her throat...Where was she?
"Friður, suss, suss," the nurse put a gentle hand on her face-Carol had been looking around the room frantically-and pulled her eyes back so she faced her. The kindly face puckered apprehensively. "Gera þú skilja mig?"
Carol's breathing gradually slowed. The realization that she might be safe had begun to creep in...she glanced down at her arms...her body...she was swathed in bandages...
The nurse sighed. She used a finger to guide Carol's face back to her own again, then touched the bridge of her nose with a finger and drew it back to her own eyes. The sign was unmistakable: look at me.
"Eir," the nurse said, then added slowly, pointing at herself, "Minn nafn er Eir. Gera þú skilja mig?"
Islandr for Beginners clicked in Carol's head. My name is Eir. Can you understand me? She tried to speak again, but her throat felt swollen inside and would not work. Carol settled for a quick nod and a non-committal wiggle of a bandaged hand, then pointed to her own throat and shook her head.
Nurse Eir nodded, seeming to understand. "Opnaðu munninn," she said softly, then when Carol gave her a confused look she pantomimed the required action. Carol complied by opening her jaw, and the nurse tutted as she looked down her throat.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Eir sat with her patient for nearly a half-hour before emerging from the glamoured room, and when she did, her face was grim. She called another one of her servants over and gave orders for certain elixirs to be prepared before approaching the trio of Odinsons in her drawing room.
"She is not Icelandic," she announced in the All-Tongue, much to the men's surprise. "I spoke in the Islandr tongue, and she barely understood me. There will be no interview with this patient for some days, Prince Loki," she said firmly, giving him a steely gaze. "The maiden cannot speak."
"Did they cut..." began Baldr, but she interrupted him.
"No, the maid still has her tongue. The damage is to her vocal cords; they are swollen to the point of non-function. I can repair the damage to the soft tissue, but it will take some time. There is a lot to repair," Eir said helplessly.
"I will need to speak with her as soon as she is able," Loki said coolly. "Please let me know when she is ready. By your leave, Lady Eir," he said formally, giving her a slight bow. "Baldr, a word?" he murmured, jerking his head towards the door. Baldr nodded, took his leave of Lady Eir, and followed Loki out the door.
Thor looked at Eir with something akin to pity. "The maiden screamed herself hoarse," he said simply.
Eir nodded, her face clouding. "I have not seen such cruelty in several centuries," she whispered, "not even from Dökkálfar raiders. It would seem, from her injuries, that the people who did this were interested in inflicting as much pain as possible." She shuddered, and Thor placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I have never wanted to take a life, Thor," she whispered. "It goes against my art. But seeing this..."
"We all fight in different ways, Lady Eir," Thor said simply. "Your job," he said firmly, grasping her by the shoulders, "is to make the weak strong again, to seek and save the lost, and to restore the broken. That is how you help defeat evil like this," he motioned to the girl's room with his head.
"But what about justice," she pleaded? "Who holds those who did this responsible for their actions?"
Thunder rolled distantly. "That...is my job," Thor rumbled. He glanced out the window for a moment. "You may want to consult with Lady Niorun. The maiden may need her help to sleep without night terrors."
Lady Eir nodded. The Goddess of Dreams would indeed be a welcome visitor in the House of Eir.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ /\/\/\
"You wanted to speak to me?" Baldr caught up to Loki easily, and the two conversed as they made their way back to the palace.
"Yes," Loki seemed troubled by something. "The girl, when you rescued her: how did the supplicants react to your presence?"
Baldr frowned. "They were...initially glad to see me. I think they mistook me for whatever deity they were worshipping at the time. I ordered them to disperse, and they started groveling. One even openly bragged how he had been the first to defile her, and asked for my blessing!"
"What did you do?"
Baldr shrugged. "I threw the cur over my shoulder."
Loki raised an eyebrow. "Nice touch!" He paused a moment. "Did they address you at all?"
Baldr scowled and nodded. "They called me Surtr," he admitted, "several times. They obviously thought I was him."
"Hmmm. What were you wearing?"
Baldr shrugged again. "Not much. I was called in haste and had little time to dress. I just wore my breeches and a cape."
"Doubtless you were incandescent, given the circumstances."
"I was highly agitated, yes."
"Which explains why they thought you were Surtr," Loki mused darkly. "This could be bad. It sounds like Surtr has nurtured his own cult on Midgard, and they've worked their way up to human sacrifice. Father must be told," he said grimly. He cast a glance at his younger brother. The younger man was shorter than Thor by a head, but was equally well-built. "So, are you planning on running around town half-naked again anytime soon? Surely with the attention you get from the maidens would shame both Thor and Fandral. Maybe some of the rest of us could get lucky in your wake!"
Baldr grinned, embarrassed. "Shut up."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Later that same day...in the House of Eir...
"So, how did this injury occur?" Lady Eir bent over the shattered arm of the child in front of her, lobbing questions at her father even as she poked and prodded. The child, for her part, only sniffled and moaned.
"She fell off of her horse," the man grunted. "Wasn't payin' no attention to what she was doin', right Edelsten?" The last comment was directed to the child, whose eyes widened even as she sniffled. The child nodded.
Lady Eir frowned. "This is a bad break. I can set the bone, of course, but it will take a few weeks to heal." She straightened up and motioned to one of her assistants, who walked over.
"Image the bones for me," she murmured, "see if we have to do surgery, and get a full medical history," she added in an aside. The assistant nodded, then scooped up the child and took her to the rear portions of the House.
Turning back to the child's father, Eir straightened up. "I should speak to her mother. Aftercare for a break like this is important, lest the bones grow back crooked. When can I see her?"
The man scowled. "When you reach the afterlife, Milady Eir. My lady-wife died in childbed." He scowled in his daughter's wake. "Her bed."
"You have my condolences," Lady Eir said soothingly. "Surely it is difficult to raise such a beautiful daughter without her mother's care. And from the sound of it, she tries hard to please you, doing boyish things e'en when she knows she is not one." She smiled a little. "She quite reminds me of Lady Sif at this age: precious and tough at the same time."
The man only scowled further. "Not so tough as you might think, Lady Eir. Some days..." He broke off his train of thought and looked down the hallway, where his daughter had disappeared. "I have no household staff knowledgeable enough to look after a child in her condition. I was about to leave on a journey when this happened. Would it be possible to leave her in your care? I will be gone a fortnight," he added.
Lady Eir frowned. "A journey? Now?"
"I am a merchant, Lady Eir. If I am to recompense you for your services, I must tend to my business. Normally Edelsten would accompany me, but she cannot in this state."
The man's words made sense, but Lady Eir sensed something else was going on. She just could not divine what it was. Still, little Edelsten had only six years, and would not be a burden to the House...
"I can take her in, yes. There will be some forms to fill out, of course, and I must have your written leave to tend her as I see fit in your absence..."
"Of course, Lady Eir."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Carol opened her eyes. She had napped after Nurse Eir had made her take several draughts of medicine, and thankfully, this time had had no dreams. She looked around her, curious. The room was the same, but something seemed...off. There wasn't anything wrong with it, per se, but still, it somehow appeared unreal. If it hadn't been for the lessening pain all over her body, she would have thought herself mad.
Maybe I have gone mad, she thought. Maybe I'm dyin', and all this is just some sort o' illusion me own mind cooked up, whilst me spirit leaves me body. The idea actually made sense. It made a lot more sense than being rescued by an incandescent angel and flying through the stars...
Ok, so, I'm dead, or dyin', she thought, but why am I seein' some sort o' hospital? Seems to me I should be seein' Gran or Granpa an' the family farm instead o' this place...all white walls an' odd-lookin' chairs and an IV bottle...
The IV bottle...it hung tantalizingly nearby on a hook, with the usual tube running down and into her arm, the needle hidden under a swath of bandages. It would have looked totally normal if IV bottles had not been in use since the 1970's. Modern hospitals used plastic bags!
Carol frowned, then tried to sit up in her bed. God, it hurt, but she managed to get a bandaged hand around the IV tube, and started pulling the bottle closer...
Or she would have, if the tube hadn't gone completely through her fingers. She stared, thinking perhaps she had simply dropped the tube, and grasped at it again.
Nothing.
She waved a hand at the pole holding up the IV bottle.
And hit nothing. Her hand went completely through the pole.
Dread filled her. Carol didn't mind dying; it would be a comfort, in fact. But madness in the face of death was inexcusable. She had chosen the Via Dolorosa. Had her mind snapped in her weakness, her wish to escape the horrors inflicted by her 'friends'? She swung out in the opposite direction, and her bandaged hand thudded painfully on the nearby wall.
The pain was real, therefore, so was the wall.
She heard voices out in the hallway, murmurs of a child, and broken bones, and a journey...in English.
If these people spoke English, why had Nurse Eir addressed her in Icelandic? Where was she?
Waiting seemed to take forever, but eventually Nurse Eir made it back to Carol's room. She was carrying a tray of soft foods-something that looked like soup and cooked fruit, and a tankard of some cool, sweet-smelling concoction Carol knew she would be expected to sip. 'Nurse Eir' put the tray down and pulled the strange-looking chair over towards the head of the bed, but before she could say anything Carol made a writing sign with the finger of one hand on the palm of the other. 'Nurse Eir' nodded and rose, disappearing for a moment. When she returned she held a writing board and a...quill?
Carol frowned but accepted the tools. Clumsily, because her hands were still bandaged, she scrawled out:
Where am I?
'Nurse Eir' looked at the English script and nodded. The maid was from another country, then.
"You are in the hospital in Reykjavik," she began, only to be greeted by a stony glare and some furious scribbling.
We are not in Reykjavik. This is not a hospital. Where am I?
Lady Eir's mouth dropped open for a second. "What makes you think so, dear one?" she asked cautiously.
Reykjavik 's hospital uses modern technology. Glass bottles have not been used for 30+ years. Even if they were, they would be solid and not a hologram.
Carol punctuated her last point by waving a hand through the glamour IV pole and tube.
We do not have this technology. I think I am not dead. Where am I?
Lady Eir 'hmmmmed' for a moment and frowned. The deception had been deemed necessary by the royal family, and she did not have the power or authority to over-ride it. However, more lies would doubtless upset the patient. She decided on a compromise.
"There are some questions I am not allowed to answer. I can call the one with whom you must speak," she placated, seeing the girl's face contract. "Can you tell me your name?"
The girl nodded and wrote again.
I am Carol Dahl.
