Invitation
By Rey
10. The Outing
Days have flown by, and yet I am still trapped in the realm of the frost giants.
Well, to be honest, at least to myself, I did not try hard to escape, past the first time Eðlenstr dropped me off in this mixed classroom. Because, for a race of supposed barbaric brutes drunk on power, the jötnar turn out to have a wealth of knowledge and skills – esoteric and otherwise – and a rather rich culture, and I have been spending the days absorbing as much information as possible. Here, I can sequester myself somewhere without being forgotten, as well.
I am currently tempted to really try to vacate the premises and return to Asgard, however. How not? The tutors have arranged a sudden week-long trip to and around Útgarð for the pupils – including me, no doubt – for tomorrow!
They call it a big treat. I call it a big disaster. Especially when they promise the pupils a possibility of meeting the Monarch.
I have no desire whatsoever to see Laufey in person!
I cannot avoid going with the masses, unfortunately, as Eðlenstr is also coming in the trip, and they have set themself as my minder.
I cannot sneak away right now, either, because, apparently knowing in advance that the pupils will not be able to concentrate on their studies with this news hanging over their heads, the tutors are arranging everyone for a short outing to a plantation just outside this settlement.
Still, I try.
I tell "Elder Lúkra" – my main minder while in the classroom – that I am hungry and would like to return to Eðlenstr's house to fetch some snack to bring with me. But they accompany me there instead of letting me go alone.
I tell them next that there are so many books in the library that I am yet to read. And they reason – in quite a reasonable voice that makes me feel so much like a child – that I will have time both after this outing and before the trip tomorrow, not to mention during the trip. If I am lucky, I might even have access to the palace's library in Útgarð once we arrive there.
I try to slip away without saying anything, in the end, as we are returning to the library that also houses the classroom. But, as calmly as before, the pesky jötun just picks me up and refuses to let me walk on my own two feet, even when we rejoin the crowd of pupils and tutors, who are boarding a large transport that bears the same emblem as the one painted on the side of the library's building.
Worse yet, one of the owners of the plantation stares thoughtfully at me, when we disembark in the parking site. Elder Lúkra theorises – privately to me, once we are touring the plantation along with the others – that our kinlines match each other, so the plantation owner might wonder why they have never known me before this.
That does not explain the recognition that I briefly saw in those mellow eyes, however, especially given the fact that the "kinlines" mentioned have been painted over by Eðlenstr each morning. But I do not seek to enlighten Elder Lúkra – who is still keeping me captive in their arms – about that.
Let them wonder. I do not wonder. I simply seek to go home.