Sindri tilted his head, watching as Thora tried to organize her belongings. "Why do you need so much spices?"
"Stockin' up for when I return t' Berk." It was a lie, but a believable one.
"Hm. Is many expensive spices. Not ones Berk gets often?" He picked up one of her tins, looking it over. It felt extremely light -almost as if it were empty- but he could hear something rustling around inside.
"No. Trader Johann can only sail so far these days, after all." Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she reached over and plucked the copper tin from Sindri's hands. "It'll be nice t' have some o' these in stock again." She set it in the center of a strip of blood-red linen before setting another, smaller, copper tin atop it. Then, on either side, she laid the pieces of cinnamon.
"Would imagine so. Is he well?" he asked, watching her carefully wrap the cinnamon and tins up in the linen so that it looked like a single object.
She let out a small sigh, leaning back. "T' be honest? I'm not entirely sure." A bit of guilt filled her stomach. "I haven't seen him for quite a while. Da', though -dad's seen him fairly recently. From what he's said, Johann's doin' well. I think he mentioned somethin' about retiring?"
He nodded in understanding. "Johann and father are in relationship, yes? Remember you saying something about that."
"…I don't know much 'bout that either." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I know they were once in a relationship…that, er…ended because o' me…" Her cheeks darkened and she glanced down at the bundle of herbs and silk. "But, from what I've been hearin', they've gone back t' flirtin' and whatnot? So they may be back together."
He chuckled. "Humans are funny sometimes," he said. "Have such short lives, yet are willing to waste part of life being angry at person they love…"
"T' be fair, da' did sleep with a woman and had a child with her while he was courtin' Johann."
"Yes, but he drunk on troll wine. And thought he bed male, not female."
She cocked a brow. "Bein' drunk doesn't excuse it," she told him, voice bland. "And how do ya know he thought mom was a male?"
"Because I had been one flirting with him and trying to bed him," he chirped. "But mother dragged him off first."
Thora stared at him, mild horror filling her face. "You—you're jokin', right?"
He tilted his head, confused. "No? Why would joke about this? Is not nearly funny enough situation."
She buried her face in her palm. "Ya just told me that you were the reason my da' cheated on Trader Johann on top of tellin' me that you had wanted t' bed my father."
Sindri still looked confused. "…Yes? Not see what would be joke worthy, Little Sister. Father was great warrior! And very handsome when younger. So was his friend, but…eh. Friend was too…too…" He said something in his native language that Thora knew to loosely translate to 'Not into men'.
Sighing, she slowly shook her head, her face still hidden in her palm. "Never mind. I always forget that trolls have different etiquette when it comes t' courtin'."
At that, he pouted. "Not much different. Am sure mother wouldn't have bedded him if knew father was in relationship. I wouldn't have bedded him if I knew."
Thora peeked from between her fingers at him. "…Did ya bed him?"
"No," he answered, honestly. "Like said, mother got him first." He shrugged. "Kind of good thing, too. Ended up having to help Ulfr because he drink too much."
"I…I think that's enough I need t' hear about that night," she murmured, her tone betraying her exasperation. Knowing Sindri was about to open his mouth and continue talking, she reached over with a tendril of match, covering his mouth. "For the love o' the Æsir, Vanir, an' my sanity, please, let's talk about somethin' else."
Shielding her eyes, Heather looked up at the sun. "Is the sun ever going to set?" she asked. "It's got to be nearly midnight!"
"Will mostly set soon," Ormr replied, glancing over his shoulder to look at her. "This far north, sun does not set for long during summer. During winter, sun not rise for long."
She cocked her brow. "You're joking."
"No. Is all true." He leaned over, peering over the side of Death Dance to make sure they were still on the right path. "Will get darker once we are in the forest," he assured her. "Much darker."
Her brow still raised, she looked up at Thora. "And why doesn't the sun set?"
Thora shrugged. "Probably has somethin' t' do with the tilt of the earth an' how the top o' it is tilted more towards the sun durin' summer," she replied, doing her best to keep a straight face.
Heather snorted. "Good one."
"Can't take the credit. Ruffnut came up with that one." She smiled.
"Those two really like to come up with outlandish ideas, don't they?"
"I don't know…I think some o' the stuff they come up with is pretty intriguing and makes more sense than some o' the stuff our elders tell us."
From the front of Death Dance, Ulfr spoke up. "Sometimes, elders are wrong and the outlandish right. Elders told you dragons were unsafe and bloodthirsty. Now look." He motioned at Death Dance. "Turns out, some are like giant—no, gargantuan—puppies."
Death Dance clacked her jaws happily, knowing he was talking about her.
"True," Thora chuckled, "though, t' be fair, no dragons are safe. As sweet as she is, Deathie can be incredibly dangerous."
"Eh. Harmless until proven otherwise." He patted the side of Death's neck.
Rolling her eyes with a chuckle, Thora crawled forward to what looked like a large lump of blankets. Underneath it, however, she knew Sindri was snuggled up with Dagrun. Whether both were sleeping or not, she intended to find out. She untucked a bit of the blanket, lifting it just enough to allow her to peek under.
Sindri glanced up at her, his tail rising to his lips in a 'shh' motion. Thora could see why: Dagrun was fast asleep in her uncle's arms. It was hard for Thora to keep herself quiet, though. With every exhale, a tiny bubble of snot grew from the child's nose. Before she could burst out laughing, she tucked the blanket back under Sindri's shoulder.
"What's wrong?" Ormr asked, brows furrowed as he saw Thora struggling to not laugh.
"Dagrun's got a wee snot bubble," she giggled.
Heather clapped a hand over her mouth, barely able to keep herself from bursting out laughing. "Are you serious?"
"I am! I'd show ya, but I don't want t' wake her."
Ormr and Ulfr looked at one another, their brows raised in confusion. Ormr shrugged; shortly after, Ulfr shrugged and shook his head. Neither understood why the women considered a bubble of snot to be adorable.
Seeing their confusion, Thora merely chuckled. "Ya had t' see it t' understand," she told them.
"If insist," Ormr replied, brow still raised. Leaning over once again, he looked down at the land. "Ah, time to land," he said, seeing a vast, ancient forest quickly approaching. In its heart was what looked to be a single, lonely hill.
Using her tail, Thora grabbed the reigns and lightly tugged on them. The Boneknapper shifted her wings and began to descend. She was careful to not go too steeply; she didn't want to send her riders flying off her back, after all.
Heather crawled her way to Death's shoulders, peering over the edge. "That's the forest?" she questioned, brows furrowing.
"Mhm," Ormr replied, shielding his eyes as he tried to get a better look at the hill.
"It doesn't look like a magical forest…" she murmured. The brothers had assured her and Thora that the forest would be like no other on Midgard. To her, though, it looked like every other evergreen forest she had seen.
"From here? No. But when are closer…" There was a playful grin on his lips. It almost startled Heather; of the three, Ormr was the least expressive of the brothers. She had seen him smile once in a while, but they had only been small half-smiles.
As someone set their hand on her shoulder, she nearly jumped. Looking back, she saw Thora. "If ya want, ya can hop on Windshear now," she told her, using her head to motion back at the Razorwhip curled up near Death's haunches. "I'm fairly certain she's still poutin' because we made her rest."
Heather also glanced back, her brow raised and a small grin on her lips. "Oh, she is. But there was no way I was going to let her fly for nearly an entire day without a rest." She patted one of Death's vertebrae. "Death Dance here is built for long flights; Windshear? Not so much. She's made for speed and stealth."
Snorting indignantly, Windshear part-way stood up and, turning around, sat back down so that her backside was facing the non-dragons.
Thora cocked her brow, looking down at Heather. "Aye, she's definitely still pouting."
Within an hour, Heather came to realize why Ormr had been wearing a playful grin: The forest was massive. Even when they were at their full heights, Thora's brothers looked absolutely tiny compared to even the roots of the trees. As they passed by the first trees, a shiver ran down her spine; she felt like she didn't belong here.
Thora, too, felt something as they stepped into the forest. Instead of feeling unwelcomed, however, she felt an overwhelming sense of magic. Everything around her was laden with it -so much so that she felt lightheaded and nearly stumbled as it gripped at her, wanting her to use it.
Sindri's tail snaked around her shoulders, helping her to stay upright. "Will grow used to the feeling soon," he assured her. "Can be bit much when first visit."
Her brow rose slightly. "Just a wee bit," she murmured.
Heather looked at her, confused. "What's he talking about?"
"The magic," she answered. "I've never felt so much magic before. It's…it's a bit dizzying, t' be honest." She tiredly rubbed her face. "It probably feels different t' ya, though."
She nodded. "Yeah. I feel like I'm not welcomed here."
"It's because you are human," Ulfr called back. He was already some twenty yards ahead of them, his blood-red magic flowing from his fingers and into the surrounding area. "Not many humans are welcomed here. But you are with us. You are welcomed."
"Do—Do I want to know why humans aren't welcomed?" She glanced up at Thora.
"The history between humans an' non-humans is a bloody one," Thora answered, "with the non-humans not being the victors."
She frowned. "Understandable."
Thora gave her an apologetic look. "But, like Ulfr said, you're with us. No one will think badly o' ya if you're with us."
"Just because your mom was Greta?"
She shrugged. "Not just because our mum was Greta. Ulfr's done many great things in his life -he's fought in an' won many wars. Ormr's one of the greatest healers in Midgard. Sindri—"
Ormr and Ulfr cut her off. "Sindri beds people," they said in unison, both their voices dull and unimpressed.
Sindri pouted. "Excuse!? I am one who makes peace!" he protested, puffing his chest out proudly. "Ulfr may fight wars, but I am one who ends them!"
"Have nearly started war or two because slept with a husband or a wife…" Ormr grumbled, making little effort to conceal his voice.
Thora snorted, rolling her eyes. "Alright, alright ya three. No more arguin'." Shifting Dagrun's wrap somewhat, she looked up to see her brothers all glaring at one another. "Oh, now you're just actin' like a bunch o' children. Look at ya! Even your wee niece is better behaved than ya right now!" She then frowned, realizing that, by shifting Dagrun, she had released a rather foul stench from the child. "Oh gods, that reeks, child…"
Dagrun merely grunted, squirming around in her wrap. Heather chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. Despite Ulfr's words, she didn't feel entirely reassured that she would be welcomed at the festival. She had no choice but to believe them, however, especially since it meant getting her brother back.
Glancing over her shoulder, she could see the two dragons looking around cautiously. 'They can feel the oppressiveness, too,' she thought, frowning ever so slightly. 'I hope no one tries to hurt them…or me. Windshear would kill someone if they tried anything.' She looked over at Thora who was kneeling on the side of the road. Ormr was kneeling beside her, helping her change Dagrun's diaper. 'What would they do if someone tried to insult me? Or tried to hurt me? Would they stand up for me…?'
She jumped, her eyes widening in shock as a large hand clapped over her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Sindri looking down at her, concern filling his usually-cheerful face. "Are alright?" he asked, worry filling his voice as well.
"Fine," she replied. "Just…feeling a bit off is all. It'll be a while before I'm used to this place."
He nodded in understanding. "Places like this can be unfriendly at times," he told her. "Can be…eh, ruthless? Not sure if that is right word. But places like this made to keep strangers out. You are with us, so it knows you are not stranger, but it does not know you yet. Only knows are human and that humans are usually not welcomed."
"So…what you're saying is that it's going to take some time for the forest to not see me as a threat?"
"Hm. Not so much threat as possible threat." Tilting his head back, he looked up -way up- to the canopy above. "Should take no longer than few hours to learn," he told her. "Until then, though, will feel off. May even have dark thoughts -but they not your thoughts."
"What he's tryin' t' say," Thora called over, "is that the forest is going t' be searchin' your mind for any signs that you're an enemy. Because o' that, ya may think things that ya normally wouldn't think. It'll be uncomfortable, but it's nothin' t' worry about."
She shuddered. "While I understand the necessity of it, I don't like the thought of something searching my mind," she murmured. "Let alone something I can't see searching my mind…"
Sindri patted her shoulder once again. "Warding magic is strange," he said. "Be glad is not more—more, eh…" He said something in his native tongue.
"Intrusive," Ulfr and Thora chorused.
"Thank. Be glad is not more intrusive. Have been through spells that get very…eh…personal at times." He scrunched his nose up slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Those not fun."
Heather cringed at the thought. "I wouldn't imagine them to be…"
