Worship of the Gods
People are rivers, always ready to move
from one state of being into another.
It is not fair, to treat people
as if they are finished beings.
Everyone is always becoming and unbecoming.
Kathleen Winter
Chapter Thirty-One: The Sickness of Secrets and Silver
Barraging into an Aesir guard, Ellie was thrust out of the hall and onto her knees. She grasped her arm to her chest, grunting in a heap of confusion. The prince was gone. He had become lost in the heavenely dancing and was unaware of his surroundings. Still slightly intoxicating on the ecstasy of it all, Ellie panted and collapsed again against the wall.
"God," she hissed, staring up at the gold canopy.
"I'm with her," a voice cried. "Let me through."
Ellie's hazy vision attempted to focus on her dark haired figure wrenching his arm out of a guard's grasp. She frowned at her Aesir friend. "Lounn, what are you doing?"
"Are you alright?" he sank to his knees, reaching for her. "I saw you scream."
"Weren't you dancing?"
"No," he said. "My partner preferred the company of Thor. Who was I to deny that? I stopped a while ago and just found myself watching."
With a shaky exhale, she held her arm out. "It touched me. It hurt. I felt like my heart was going to explode."
"Let's just pull it off. It won't do much harm if we…" he took the torque and pulled it over an inch of skin. A startling sizzle erupted from her. With a screech, she hurriedly shoved the torque back over the sleeve and stared at Lounn in disbelief. "You bastard."
"Stop being such a-"
"Don't you dare," Ellie seethed. The skin continued to sting. Both of their gazes were trained on the blistering skin. It continued to bubble like the top of a burning soup. Ellie squeezed her lips together and screamed.
Lounn, panicking slightly at their lone, unaided situation held his hands at a distance. "If we quickly yank it-"
"No, Lounn!" she wretched.
"Okay! Okay, just don't - don't look at it!"
"What good does that do?"
"Well, usually it hurts more if you look at the wound–"
"I think it hurts regardless."
"Out of my way!" an official and regel tone echoed in the doorway. It was a man Ellie prayed she wouldn't have to encounter again. The slender spokesman stormed between the guards. It was clear he hadn't been dancing; most definitely spying on behalf of his Lord.
"Aelfred?" Ellie stared as he thrust the goblet towards her. "What is that?"
"You must take this. It will help," he icily forced the words; empathy was foreign to him.
Sweat glued hair to her cheeks and forehead. It was difficult to grip the drink; her skin was too slippery. Lounn held a hand around hers and steadily pressed the goblet to her lips. It had to have been an ointment or elixir.
The silver drink slipped down her throat. It was cool, extinguishing the fire inside. She exhaled loudly, spitting on Lounn and down herself. "Gods," she guffawed. "I'm… I feel terrible." As the words left her lips, a tight sting began on her tongue and stomach. She loosely gripped her waist and closed her eyes. "I think I need to… go to bed…" she murmured.
Fireworks exploded in her insides; on the pedestal of her oesophagus they detonated. Her liver sizzled, unable to neutralise the elixir. The churning, gloopy acid of her stomach felt as if it had pooled into the space around her organs.
Ellie panted, exhaling and inhaling quickly. The potency of the drink reached her lungs; sparkling against the vessel channels and veins.
Lounn's words became muffled. She couldn't smell, hear, breathe or think. With a heave, she collapsed sideways and fell into a pit of darkness.
If felt as if someone was putting an immense weight on her eyeballs. Glitter shimmered through the black call of sleep. Figures danced out of the silver; prancing closer and closer until she could see beings and a strange world behind them. They were memories.
They rippled through her mind like a painting beneath clear water. The first; she was on the top of a mountain, staring up at the brightest star above. Around her, stardust trickled down like rain drops. Frigga was holding her arm and smiling sadly.
"All of this light…" she murmured.
"Yes?" Ellie pushed, not wanting to look away.
"All of this light lives within you."
The next memory was on a golden balcony overlooking a garden – Frigga's private garden. Beneath them were Freyr's children. Laughter and high-pitched squealing echoed in Ellie's ears. She leaned over and stared at the shining butterflies which played with the children. Suddenly, one of them slipped over and the light in his eyes went out for a moment.
"What's wrong with him?" Ellie asked, turning to look up at the Queen.
"They grow weary and ill. The longer the stone calls for its master, the weaker they become."
Bursting, Ellie shot up and out of her vision. She gasped and began to heave. It was too much; so many voices cried out in her head, she could scarcely control herself from screaming. With a pained groan, she clutched her wrist to her chest and slumped against the wall.
"Sire!" someone called. It must've been Lounn, only he could sound so dramatic.
"I'm…" she tried to calm him. "I'm okay… I…"
"She is your Mother," Frigga said, brushing her fingers over the tapestry. It was dusty and oddly bent from decades of storage. When Ellie touched it, she found it was shockingly cold and empty. She peered at Niamh Chin Óir.
The princess stood beside the Lord Freyr on a battlefield, holding the head of a Dökkálfar. "There was a fierce battle on Alfheim. She saved her people from extinction and restored the Alkar Tree to its rightful place." Covered in blood, the Elf was an angel amongst the bloodshed.
"Her hair. Her face…" Ellie whispered. "She…"
"Looks like you," Frigga began rolling the tapestry back up. "Freyr knew from the moment he saw you; you were his blood."
"He told me I was human."
Frigga swept the tapestry into oblivion. It disappeared with a gush of wind. Ellie stared at the empty table. "Ellie, you must understand that no one can know about this. Not even yourself. Not yet. They will have at you for being what you are."
The world was a murky swamp of words, voices and smells. Someone was touching her; holding her face with such caress it pulled her from her mind. "Help me," she said, her voice distant, as if being pulled out of a nightmare. Loki swallowed as crouched against her quivering form. Anguish radiated from Ellie and it made Loki's skin shiver. Her voice came again. "Help me," she said louder. "Help me. Help me."
Loki stared at her, unable to control the surges of loss Ellie exhumed. Her eyes fluttered open; they were shining with gold light; she was foreign to him in every sense. Loki's fingers slipped from her face; he was trapped in her stare. "Ellie," Loki warned.
She shot a handout, grabbing his collar. Absorbing him fully into the petrifying need to understand. Without missing a heartbeat, she begged: "who am I?"
Loki thought she sounded like a child. It was similar to the voice she used on the bridge; on the first night of their meeting. Only this time, he was consumed by her sorrow and wanted to protect her from its relentless mercy. "I can't…" he began.
"You can." Ellie grabbed his tunic, curling her fingers into the rich leather. "You can," she repeated, her voice wavering. "who am I?"
"Adams. My name is Ellie Adams."
The Völva popped out of the darkness, grabbing her by the throat. His black saliva dripped down his chin and onto her lap. "You've taken a bite," he drooled. "Tell me what you found out."
The floor disintegrated beneath them. Grappling for a ledge, Ellie screeched and tumbled into the darkness. She was falling. The air rushed up around her, pushing her hair around her neck until it tangled and squeezed. Clutching the skin, she scratched and choked.
"Go on, little bird," Frigga said, urging Ellie out of a secret passage. "Back to training."
"Won't they see me walking back in?"
Frigga held the door for several moments, her voice dropping to a whisper. "This passage leads to the rooftops. You'll be able to slip into the courtyard unseen." With a quick nod, Ellie turned and scurried down the uneven path. It was grassy and unkept, a dumping ground of rotten vegetables and farm food.
She skidded down to the lower town, listening to the chirping birds as dawn threatened to break. As she reached the training quarters, she found herself on a strip of land above. With a huff, she dropped onto a tiled roof and scampered towards the courtyard. Her feet slipped on his damp surface until she came to a pleasant halt.
Exhausted, she collapsed and stared up at the sky. Her eyes slipped shut for a few precious minutes.
"Get it off," a voice begged. Ellie realised it was hers. She scratched at the arm ring, crying out as the silver melted into her skin. "It burns."
The fire consumed her, spreading up her arm and into her chest. She couldn't bear to open her eyes in fear she'd see her own flesh bubbling like a cooking stew. It was painful, holding onto the conscious world as another memory slipped into her mind.
"There is a tale, one you may know, but it is infamous to us." Frigga was soothing Ellie, having discovered her crying on the Alfheim pillar. She was consumed by fear; to fail, to succeed, to disobey. The Queen Mother stroked Ellie's hair, humming gently and compelling the fright from her soul.
"What's the story?" she sniffled.
"Once there was a princess trapped in a tower. A prince appeared, fighting valiantly. He slayed the dragon, cutting open its throat and leaving its blood to drip down his sword. The princess wept all night long into her pillow. She loved that beast."
"How? It was the monster."
Pushing her hand through Ellie's curls, she smiled. "Monstrous things aren't always monstrous. Sometimes they're beautiful."
"Why did you tell me that story?"
"You believe you are becoming a monster. So, you stop yourself from truly fighting and training. Tomorrow, you will defeat your peers without fear of banishment from God."
Ellie could only conclude that she had drunk acid, not a medicinal liquid as it coursed through her veins and swam around her heart. She couldn't breathe anymore; her throat was swollen and pulsing; throbbing flashes of agony down her body. She inhaled and the noise which came from her throat was a gargle. Then the noise stopped.
The commotion in her ears was a muffled chaos. Only her heartbeat thundered on her eardrum. It was a ticking timebomb and she knew it was coming to its end. In the heat of that hell, she thought of what Hell was. Would she be dragged through its gate by a chain, pulled over the brimstone floor and shoved into a cooking pot with other sinners? It was inevitable; she had committed heinous acts without consulting God for forgiveness.
Perhaps the drink had been holy water. God was finally taking her back.
The hazy purgatory she was suspended in warped and contorted. She felt warmth; genuine kindness, not burning. It consumed her agony, wrapping her up and kissing every pained part. With a spluttered choke, she descended, or rather, ascended.
Aesir guests squabbled with the guards, craning their necks for a peek into the sanctuary. The Allfather cast his cape, banishing them from view. He stormed towards the healers who were in a deep conversation with his wife.
On the suspended chamber, Ellie lay still and unconscious. The red haze around her shimmered. In pursuit of him was his raven-haired son.
"I am the son of the King!" he shouted. "I demand you let me through."
"No one is permitted to enter," a guard said.
"I am your God…!"
"Allow him through," the Allfather called. The two guards turned, their faces stony and unemotional as Loki's thunderous footsteps announced his entrance. Medicinal smells burned his nose as he approached. It was sweet and sour, tainting his ability to rationalise the situation.
"Why are you…?" he began.
"A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth," his Mother sang:
"Mise ri d'thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan
Ar righinn oig, fas as faic
Do thir, dileas fhein
A ghrian a's a ghealaich, stuir sinn
Gu uair ar cliu 's ar gloire
Naoidhean bhig, ar righinn og
Mhaighdean uasal bh-han."
Breathing heavily, Loki stared at her. He recognised the lullaby from his childhood; it was one of love and protection. It shouldn't have been used on a Midgardian, on a being with no connection to the Yggdrasil's royalty. But he knew better than to believe such a thing now. He clenched his fist. "What happened to her?" he asked, his eyes dark. "Aelfred gave her a goblet of silver. Silver ale!"
Odin turned and walked away from the bed. He brushed past Loki in silence, deciding to head towards Lord Freyr's quarters instead of face his son.
"My love," Frigga called gently. He ignored her, continuing out of the room. The guards stood straight, their faces passive. Loki looked between his mother and the open door. "What do you both know?" Frigga couldn't meet his questioning stare. "Tell me, Mother."
"Ask your father, Loki. I beg of you." She leaned over the bedside, her hand reaching to hold Ellie's. Loki hissed and stormed out after the King.
Odin was halfway down the corridor, his pace fast and unnerving. Loki transported forwards, a step behind him. "Father," he said loudly. The King walked faster. "Father!" he snapped and finally the King whipped around to face his son.
"What is it, boy?"
"Tell about Eurelia. I know she's not human. Thor may be two inches thicker than a plank of wood, but I'm not." So, tell me what she is," he raised his voice, feeling annoyance, fear and need fill him. "Tell me why you have deceived me the entire time."
References:
Frigga's Song / A Mhaighdean Bhan Uasal - from the movie 'Brave'. I felt the song mirrored Frigga and Ellie's relationship as well as the change Ellie is going through.
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