Worship of the Gods

She knew that this day, this feeling, couldn't last forever.
Everything passed; that was partly why it was so beautiful.
Things would get difficult again.
But that was okay too.
The bravery was in moving forward,
no matter what

– Panic, Lauren Oliver

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Descent into Theological Loss

Two Days Later

Ellie slept so soundly, that for several moments after she woke, she felt comfortable and content. She vaguely knew who and where she was, but her reasons for being there were lost to her. Then a terrible feeling crept over her and she remembered.

The blankets were a cocoon of warmth on her sore body; so warm and coaxing compared to the voice of the royal healer as she entered the chamber. It was a different woman everyday but the one who stuck out the most was the one three days ago who reminded Ellie very much of the black-haired prince. Not that she would ask him. He'd be relentlessly angry for being caught out.

"Head out of those bedsheets, petal," Ingrid called, her voice chirpy and rather nagging. Ellie pried one eye open, momentarily squinting before her healer's plump form waddled in front of it. She emerged with her memories, pulling the blanket around her shoulders muttering, "Jesus, it's cold."

"See?" Ingrid started, "everyone's jumping around singing 'blessed be, Lithasblot' when I know, I know it means cold days and ice," she said. "And ice is not good. It's cold."

Holding her blankets to her body, Ellie unevenly staggered off the bed. She shivered as Ingrid held her arm. "I don't really mind the cold. It's refreshing."

"Want me to bathe you in cold water instead?"

Ellie glanced up at her. "Well, I mean it's a shame to let it go to waste, isn't it?" They shared a small grin as Ellie untied her healing gown and took a shaky step into the round bath set up in front of a crackling fire. An ointment of glistening purple swirled in the water. It was alive as it swept around Ellie's legs, thighs and stomach. She sighed, bringing her knees to her chest. "This feels good."

"Some gingko, primrose slithers and ground draugr eyeballs." Ellie jolted, staring at her as if she'd gone mad. The healer began to cackle. "Gods, I'm funny. It's echinacea oil."

Ingrid helped her bathe. Having the middle-aged woman gently soothing her bruised skin was reminiscent of the orphanage. Ellie closed her eyes. It was better in fact. She imagined Ingrid was her mother.

The soap became frothy on her back and neck, only to be washed away with fresh water. Her neck was still stiff, but it didn't hurt to talk anymore. The wrist was bandaged, and her stomach didn't reject food. Being kicked close to the kidneys wasn't on her top list of injuries either. But it taught her a lesson; protect the front first. Your face doesn't matter; it's your insides.

Ingrid coughed. "When I first saw you, you'd be massacred by a warg, but the skin beneath your injuries was the clearest I'd ever seen. Disregarding the scarring up your spine and the back of your neck, you really were a specimen."

Ellie scratched her skin self-consciously.

"From birth, Aesir suffer brutal injuries. It's all normal. A child's favourite past-time is fighting."

"How am I looking now then?" Ingrid wrapped a large strip of cloth around Ellie's shoulders, helping her up.

"The training scabs and scars…" she hummed. "I must digest that you look like a true Asgardian."

"I don't feel like one. I lost a fight."

"You were betrayed. It's not the same."

Warming at her healer, Ellie smiled. She slipped a thin, linen dress over her head and crawled into bed. "What's for breakfast?" she asked.

"I've also got you something hot. Something full of veg," she said, touching her cheek with a forefinger. "And a herbal drink." Ellie smiled gratefully, shifting in her bed as she sat up higher. Ingrid lifted a silver dish revealing a bowl of soup and moved the tray in front of her. Ellie's stomach growled as the waft of carrots, potatoes and leek snaked its way into her nostrils. She sipped the food, enjoying the burn as it slid down her throat.

Ingrid scribbled some notes down on a notepad, sending small glances at Ellie. She finished something rather official and tucked the information away in a folder at the end of the bed. "Get some rest."

One Week Later

"You look different."

With a bow arched between her hands, Ellie exhaled steadily. "Is it the black-eye?" She released it and winced as a sharp twang rippled her arms. The arrow shakily soared and slammed two metres from the target. Ellie grimaced again.

"Pitiful," Naeva said with a half-sarcastic shrug. "It's the wrist."

Ellie looked down at the thing. It was no longer broken. Much worse than that it had been aligned several days ago and had an obnoxiously tattered bandage still wrapped around it. She glanced back to her acquaintance and frowned, feeling rather lost and confused. Her time on Asgard was coming to an end, she feared. Since the attack, she appeared to be hopping from one place to another. It was as if she were a piece on a boardgame and someone simply placed her here, there and then.

Something within her screamed that she was no longer in control. She clenched her teeth, swelling with anxiety.

"Dunga," someone called. Ellie knew the nickname was meant for her. She turned around and met Gustav's overpowering form. He wore a sleeveless tunic, exposing a tattoo he had done recently. It was an Yggdrasil rune, meaning eihwaz which was the liberation from fear of death. Despite her surety that he was planning on cutting her open to see her human blood, she felt proud of him. Tyr must've awarded him for something; his spirit was now elevated. "I warn you," he said. "You'll find no sympathy from me for being a human."

Ellie's eyes snapped to his. A wry smirk grew on her lips. She remembered one of their first meetings. They held distain for one another then. "My name is Eurelia. You'll find none from me."

I warn you, dunga, you'll find no sympathy." Now, there was admiration. They shared a sentimental stare.

Naeva lifted her bow again, releasing an arrow with a smooth hiss. "Gods, you're dramatic," she said flippantly. "Nice ink."

"My gratitude," Gustav said. "There was a scout mission on Niflheim. We were ambushed. Saved three innocents."

"Show off."

Undoing her wrist sling, Ellie suddenly felt very ill. "What did you have to battle?"

"Trolls," he recalled. "They were stealing livestock and didn't like us disturbing their cave."

Wrinkling her nose, Elle was grateful she had been retrieved by Tyr for the task. From the tales, they were abhorrently smelly. They had festering sores all over their bodies which popped often. It was particularly difficult to avoid any liquid during a quarrel as they liked to be naked. "I hope you showered," she said.

"I think if he didn't, we'd be able to tell," Naeva unstrapped her finger sling, packing away her bow.

Gustav grinned. "My natural odour is a musky aphrodisiac."

"For a goat in heat," Ellie slid back icily.

"What's wrong with goats? My cousin is half-goat," he said, and Ellie swallowed, suddenly embarrassed. Gustav then burst into laughter and shoved her roughly, knocking her sideways. "Lighten up, little human."

"It's… hard to," she admitted. "I'm struggling with my trust."

Gustav chewed the inside of his cheek. "Have you been called to forgive Ajun and his accomplices?"

"No. It's too late, anyway," she said. "They're in the dungeons. There's a trial soon. I've been called to bear witness to their punishment."

Naeva raised an eyebrow. "Are they to be sacrificed?"

Slightly unsure, Ellie could only offer a shrug. They were rare and few in modern Asgard after the Völva predicted Ragnorök directly involved the Norse underworld of Hel. Odin used to ride to the realm with his prisoners thousands of years ago. In fact, it was so long ago that very few living memories of the ritual existed. Ellie knew she wasn't worth enough for such a commotion. It was probably a firm scolding. "Should've challenged him to a holmgang," she grabbed hold of a sword, preparing to practise with Naeva.

"You've changed," she grinned. "I remember watching you… petrified in our first classes. Did you know what a holmgang was back then? Or a good liar?" Ellie held her gaze for a pregnant second. "Yes, you've changed."

Had she really been so obvious? Lifting the sword, she held it close to her and tilted it in the sunlight. It was an intricate piece of steel and gold rounded in her hand and soft to hold – for the first time, it wasn't a weapon, but a companion.

How could she admit that to Him? To the Heavenly Father. "Yes," she replied quietly, " I think… I have."

Three Days Later

The trial took place in a dimly lit room on the underside of the dungeons. Gravity metamorphosed for Asgard. Ellie took one step down a dingy stairway and was suddenly upright and feeling dizzy. She looked back and saw the bright blue sky of Asgard upside down. It was a magical tactic used to confuse prisoners. She would've been impressed if her stomach was churning; threatening to push breakfast back out of the oesophagus.

Slightly pale, she stood beside Aelfred and watched the three-way trial. Heat bloomed in her chest as each one took a seat and waited for their punishment from the Allfather. It was painful to look upon their faces. They were no longer smiling or laughing like they did in training. The raw hatred plumed out of their auras like a steam engine.

Finally, Ajun rose from his seat and shuffled into the middle of the room. On either side of him was a guard. She looked upon his face and flared with confused disgust.

Before arriving to the trial, she had prepared in her bedchamber and passed through the corridor where his quarters were. For the first time in weeks, his door was open. She had cast an empty look into his room. The bed was stripped, there were no photos on his drawers. No clothing in his trunk. No sign of life at all. She let her fingers drift on the door frame for a single moment and then she turned and stormed out of the barracks without a second thought. Ajun deserved to be locked away, she had thought snidely.

And then she realised how wrong she was to think so. He was passionate, corruptly passionate, but passionate, nonetheless. He craved the glory of the kingsguard; serving from the frontline. Ellie couldn't help but feel as if she were to blame for the entire affair. If she didn't exist then Ragnar, Soveigg and Ajun would be thriving warriors, nearly ready for their final test. None of them had their armbands and now had no chance of receiving one.

Ellie rubbed her wrist. She felt as if a piece of flesh had been ripped from her where the rosary once sat. Mourning its loss didn't help the hatred threatening to bubble to the surface. She wanted to rattle Ajun like a bottle full of tablets and scream in his face. You took it from me. You destroyed my last piece of home. You are a fucking bastard.

"And finally, Allfather, the court is ready to proceed with motions in Ajun Norason," a bearded man declared. It was a small court. There was no such thing as an attorney, jury or defender. Odin had a single eye and with that eye he was able to expose the true nature of any soul. "This is the matter of Ajun Norason in regard to the attack on Eurelia Adamson of Midgard."

The bearded councilman listed a chronological recollection of the attack. New facts came to light in the proceedings: Ajun had divulged his thoughts days beforehand to Ragnar and Soveigg. They had spied on her; bathing, eating and disappearing up to the palace in the early hours of the morning. It made Ellie's skin crawl. Who else was watching her?

"I call the victim to be examined," the bearded man said, calling Ellie to attention. She had been able to watch Ragnar and Soveigg in silence. "The ringleader must be responded to, my lady."

Frigidly nodding, Ellie took a shaky step forward. There was a set of stairs down to Ajun. From her platform, he was tiny and the court was sickeningly focused on her.

"Could you please state your name for the Allfather?"

"Eurelia Adamson," she said.

"Eurelia, how are you employed?"

"I'm a training warrior."

"Do you see Ajun Norason in court today?"

Her gaze slid to the man who was already watching her. "Yes. He's stood there in chains."

"Eurelia, could you tell the Allfather in full what happened on the night of the fourteenth of Tvimánuður?"

Ellie recalled leaving the celebration. She reminded the court that she was slightly intoxicated but aware of her surroundings. Having heard a commotion outside of her door, she prepared to attack the intruders but what shocked to discover it was Ajun.

"He was first through the door," she said. "In the dark. He was there for me."

"Were his intentions clear?"

Nodding, Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes. I'm human. He said I didn't deserve to beat him in our training. I'm a traitor."

Ajun abruptly yanked on his chains, taking the guards by surprise. "No, I didn't. You are a liar!"

The councilman leapt to his feet. "Silence. There are no interruptions in court."

"You have allowed yourself to be tainted by a mutant!" Ajun continued. "She's an outsider."

A sudden flare of hatred burst out of Ellie. It came from nowhere and it was red hot within her. "How dare you. My purpose here is far more important than you will ever know."

"See? She's consumed by human greed! Lazy! Incompetant!"

"Norason!" the councilman cried. Ellie swept down several steps, ignoring the gasps of the Queen-Mother and Aelfred.

"I worked twice as hard as you," she hissed, taking a furious step towards him. "I spent months being no-one; beaten… stripped. Hidden from the likes of you who think you're worthier than I."

"You are the coward, then," he spat.

"I was strong. I deserve this."

Ajun twisted his wrists, sneering. "You can wear the skin of a snake, but in time, you will succumb to its poison. You'll never be as powerful as an Asgardian. Your scars prove that." Ellie breathed heavily, staring at him with uncontrollable hatred. She clenched her fist and his eyes darted down it. "Go on," he edged.

"Eurelia," a smooth voice warned.

"Show me what a human needs magic for," Ajun said. "What a weak, snivelling, uncontrollable human wants it for."

Heat rippled in Ellie's chest. "I…"

Ajun's grin shook with a breathy laugh. "What? Trying to figure out whether you belong her or down there?"

Something twanged inside of Ellie's chest. It was painful as if the words were nails and Ellie's embarrassment was a hammer, cracking open her soul. For many moons she pondered her ability to define home. "Of course I belong down there," she jabbed. "My father wasn't even an Asgardian warrior."

"Enough, girl," Aelfred said, but his voice slipped passed Ellie's notice.

Ajun scoffed, stretching his arms testily as if he meant to lunge at her. "You're not human, though," he said. "Is she, Allfather? You'll whip me for protecting the realm from a mongrel?"

Ellie hissed, breathing heavier as ripples of energy threatened to splash out of her. "I'm human!"

"Prove it," he said. "Try not to break me. To use your witchcraft on me. Go on, pull me apart like I did unto your holy relic. You remember that, don't you? That red, beaded bracelet. There was a man on there; strung to a cross."

She tilted her head up, staring down at Ajun's inferior form. How beautifully his skin would crack beneath a whip. The tousled hair would be matted with blood; thick and uncombable. The muscles grown around his skinny figure would split, sliding off the bone as wet flesh.

Ellie's fingernails dug into her palm.

"Ellie," the Queen gently pressed again.

"So, that's it?" Ajun continued. "The council… Asgard… everyone watching you in your all-powerful might. How special you are, how different and worthy –"

"It's what I am owed!" Ellie screeched, throwing an arm out sideways. There was a roar of noise as glass splintered out of the high window, as concrete cracked, and the council cried out in alarm.

A force swept Ellie's sideways, knocking her to the ground. Her hip hit the stone and shot agony down her leg. She gasped, staring up as sunlight blinded her. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, she could see the damage. The window had burst open like a chest-burster, splattering glass and stone outwards. Only it was frozen in its splintering state; as if time had stopped.

The council grumbled uncomfortably, returning to their seats and adjusting their robes. Loki had taken several steps in front of his father. He had an arm raised; his fingers spread as he controlled the window's path of destruction.

Odin rose to his feet gracefully, his cloak sweeping the floor as he took several steps forwards. "By the power of Odin, Protector of the Nine Realms, I hereby banish you to the cells of Asgard. You will lie there until death. And in death, I shall escort you to Hel."

Cold, unforgiving hatred swam around the room. The prisoners cried out in alarm. Ajun's screams echoed around them, dissipating as he was dragged out of the room and down a corridor. Words of betrayal coughed out of the open door until another guard slammed it shut and they were left in silence.

Ellie sobbed, dropping back to the floor. She stared at the Allfather through a blurry gaze. "I don't know what's happening to me," she blurted.

"The next time a prisoner is facing their rightful punishment, you will not intervene," Odin dropped his gaze, taking the air from her lungs. "Unless you wish to take their place." He swept from the room, leaving his sons in silence. Thor coughed awkwardly, watching Loki enchant the window back into place.

The Queen Mother held a hand out. "Come with me," she said down to Ellie. The human got to her feet sluggishly, her boots scratching on glass and cement. She was shaking as she climbed the steps and took Frigga's hand.

A beautifully soothing warmth slithered up her arm as she looked into the queen's eyes. She glanced back at Loki who had restored the window. He was in a deep conversation with his brother; neither pulled their gazes away from her as she left the room.

References

Holmgang – a Viking duel used to settle honour disputes. If someone felt they had been dishonoured, they went to an enclosed space and fought (sometimes to death, usually to death).