Festival of the Braids – One

Asgard, a long time ago...

Thor's throat felt dry and scratchy. Swallowing and licking his dry lips did nothing to help. The Hall of Braids always had a dry and a musty smelling atmosphere, but on this day it was even worse, amplified by the majority of the Aesir population being packed into the four walls, vast as it was. The heat was unbearable.

A trickle of swear ran down Thor's back and he heard himself swallowing nosily. It was the heat. Nerves had nothing to do with it.

He kept his eyes fixed on their people, feeling as though they were all staring at him. Loki had once claimed that during ceremonies, such as this one, he could always hear a muffled, collective heartbeat of the people, their hearts beating in time with one another and sounding like the heart of a giant. Thor was beginning to wonder if it might be true.

He squeezed Loki's hand tightly, to remind his younger brother to stand still and not to fidget. Loki's hand always felt cool, today it felt chilly. Loki yanked his hand away and held it behind his back, even though he had been ordered to hold Thor's hand.

Thor frowned at him, but didn't wish to draw any more attention to themselves by making a scene. It was important. And it was understandable that Loki was aflutter. The Festival of the Braids was only held once every nine years, so it was Loki's first time witnessing the ceremony. It was Thor's second, but it may as well be his first; he had only been a baby the last time.

Fulla, their worn out servant and former nursemaid, had told him that once they became adults nine years would pass in a blink of an eye, and to her and many others it felt as though the festival came about once a month. She sat a few paces behind them, her head nodding every now and then.

Thor couldn't imagine feeling like that, so sleepy and unable to witness something rare without requiring a nap. Grown ups were so plodding.

He instead focused his attention on his mother. She was kneeling at the front of the stage, Odin behind him holding up a ceremonial knife.

Thor squeezed Loki's hand as they watched their father cut off a long lock of Frigga's hair. The strands of auburn floated upwards to Odin's eye level, gently twisting and turning as though it were a living creature, and flashing gold as it caught the light.

Odin held out his hand, palm turned upwards. The lock of wavy hair floated over his hand, but never actually touched his skin.

The Allfather turned his back to the crowd and Frigga's hair moved with him. Now he and all of the Aesir was now facing the largest braid of hair that had ever been seen on Asgard and could never be imagined on Earth.

It hung from the ceiling on a golden hook, so high up that only Heimdall could see it, and flowed to the floor, where it's end was tightly coiled up like the world serpent and secured with a golden chain.

The lamps that floated around it was barely enough to illuminate it, but was just enough for those with keen eyes to discern some of the different shades and textures of the hairs that made it up. Saffron yellow, and white blonde, raven black, rusty red, golden browns, and white, and greys, an awful lot of grey.

'As your king and husband, I welcome you, Frigga, back into my family.'

Odin raised his hand, and the lock of hair, to his mouth and gently blew out a puff of breath that sent the hair sailing through the air towards the braid. There was a small burst of golden light and Frigga's hair had joined with the family braid, her auburn hair just a glint of colour amongst all those that had come before her.

Frigga stood up, smoothing down her dress.

'My firstborn son, and my other son, come and kneel down in front of me.'

Thor led Loki across the stage, his legs feeling strangely stiff. They passed Frigga as they went.

They knelt facing their people, backs straight and shoulders held stiffly, no smiling, just as they had been taught.

Thor felt his father place a hand on his shoulder and was surprised by its weight and warmth. He tried to brace himself for the moment when Odin would cut off a lock of his blonde hair so that he might savour the moment and commit it to his memory, but before he really could the moment had passed. There was a slight tug on his hair as Odin held a lock between his fingers and then it was gone. His shoulder was squeezed ever so briefly.

He had to fight the impulse to turn around, to look at his hair floating in the air, but he was able to watch out of his peripheral vision as Odin did the same to Loki.

'As your king and father, I welcome you, Thor, and you, Loki, once more back into my family.'

Thor kept his eyes fixed rigidly on his people, but sorely wished he could have watched as his and Loki's hair was fused to the family braid. He caught Loki in his peripheral vision snatching a fleeting look before twisting back round again. They shared a quick smile before standing up and taking a step back as Odin moved forward knelt down before them, a fluid movement. Thor placed a hand on his right shoulder, Loki on his left. Frigga stood behind him, ceremonial knife in hand.

'As your wife and the mother of your children,' said Frigga.

'As your firstborn son,' declared Thor, it came out louder than he intended but no one could fail to hear him. Some smiled.

'As your other son,' Loki mumbled, staring fixedly on the patterns on his mother's dress.

'We welcome you, Odin the Allfather, back into our family.'

In one swift motion Frigga cut through a clump of greying hairs and that too became part of their braid, adding to its length and lustre.

Odin stood up, a little stiffly. An attendant handed his staff to him.

'The Festival of the Braids has officially begun,' Odin announced. 'Heads of the households it is time for you cut the hair of your family. And in turn, they will cut yours. Add to your family braids, renew the bonds that hold strong between you, and never forget that family is more valuable than gold.'

As Odin finished his speech the hall became ablaze with light as the numerous floating lanterns burst into life, lighting up the braid of every Aesir family. No two were alike, all were unique in length, colour, texture, thickness and amount of decoration. For the Aesir the braids were their coat of arms, their family trees, and even young Aesir children were taught to recognise a family by their braid and to read the family history there.

A poorer family, usually those who worked the land, may not even be able to afford a hook from which to hang their braid. For them they had the indignity of seeing their braids coiled up, stacked against the wall among others, collecting dust and with only a candle to light them up. They could still be proud though of the length, though, as a long braid meant a steady and honest family line, with family businesses and land being passed from one son to another, without any nonsense to disrupt the braid.

A shorter braid could mean a new family line had been started. Or it could mean scandal, an affair maybe or rebel child that had been disowned by their father. It was always best for a new couple to make lots of babies quickly so that they could fill out their braid.

The richer, more powerful families, took pride in adding ornaments to their braids: gold and silver bells, chains, jewels. It was easy to what decorations had fallen in and out of fashion.

Odin held Thor's hand. And Frigga held Loki's hand. They stood together, united, watching the hall fill with flashes of golden light as one lock of hair after another was fused into a family braid.

Thor felt his heart swell and his insides glow with warmth. He understood now the importance of the festival, of celebrating one's family and being connected to them. He turned to gaze of his own family braid. It was a comforting feeling to know that his hair was entwined with Loki's hair, to their mother's, father's, grandparents, great-grandparents...It was impossible not to feel alone during such a celebration.

Next to him Loki yawned loudly and complained that he was too hot and starting to feel unwell. A common complaint; one Thor suspected his little brother of using whenever he was bored. Thor saw, but barely registered Frigga running her long fingers through Loki's hair and muttering a quiet spell to cool his head down.


When Thor awoke on the Statesman he found that Charlie the terrifying death snake had somehow escaped his room (again) and was coiled up on his bed and snoring loudly. It sounded like a soothing hiss, like an oar cutting through water.

Thor gave his scaly chin a little tickle before falling back against his pillows, arms folded under his head.

It was close to nine years since the last festival, the last festival on Asgard, the last festival before Hela had attacked and slaughtered so many of them.

Thor swallowed hard and pushed away the gloomy thoughts, but also found himself trying to push the memory filled dream. It had been pleasant to dream of happier, peaceful times, but it made his heart ache to dwell on the images of Odin and Frigga.

Still though, he had Loki and...he had Loki. And as king of Asgard it was his duty to announce that the beginning of the fourteen days of cleansing rituals. He couldn't do that while blubbering from his make shift throne. The last thing his people needed was an overly sentimental king who couldn't stop crying over the past.

So, as he did everyday now, he drew in a sharp breath, rubbed his eye and put on his eyepatch.


AN: Thanks for reading! I hope you are all well and hanging in there.