Worship of the Gods
Short is the hour for acting, and long the hour for feasting
– The Saga of Hakon the Good, C.28.
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Chaos Magic
The hall looked quite different, neatly arranged tables and benches with a clear space near the hearths on either side of the hall. Bone torches crackling along the wall, popping with blue and green when Loki felt childish enough to delight the curiosities of Ljósálfar warriors who saw little of Celestial witchcraft.
The huge fireplaces, with their spits and cauldrons, were bustling with activity under the frenzy of supper. The burning logs and spits were prodded joyously by Lord Vali himself rather than his servants. Under his furs, he had an arm wrapped around triplets, his own children who had the same maniacal madness.
Seeing her hesitate in the archway, Vali beckoned Ellie to his side with a friendly wave.
"I quite like having you in my halls," he said, pleasantly calmer. With his children under his arms, he looked quite like a mother hen with her chicks under each wing. "Once again."
"I have been here before?"
The Ljósálfar chieftain looked rather worn, Ellie thought; the small shoulders slumped a bit and the wide smile loosened to reveal deeply cut lines.
"Rindr, my wife, and your mother were very close. We celebrated your first name-day in these halls."
"Your wife?"
One of the triplets turned his head, previously preoccupied by the crackling slab of hog on the end of his skewer. "Móðir," he said.
"Yes, Móðir," Vali clutched him tighter. His voice subsequently turned into a childish "She sits in Valhalla's halls with... Afi and... Bestemor." They nuzzled into his sides. Grandmother and grandfather, Ellie translated. The hall was getting louder as their conversation progressed, groups standing together and laughing freely.
"Pardon?" Ellie turned, having missed Vali's words in the growing noise, to find him offering her a copper goblet, slightly rusted with an elven song engraved into its rim. The drink seemed pink, a soft rosey colour, pressed and fermented from the most delicate flowers. The taste was softer still, burning with an alcoholic zest when it ran down her throat and past her heart.
"Moonshine." Vali was amused, giddy once again. "It's our own moonshine. Since the planet fell, trade has been a bit more difficult."
Ellie opened her mouth to reply, and found that the smooth delicacy of the moonshine was deceptive; she could barely speak for the alcoholic coating on her throat clung to her voice. "D-Delicious," she croaked.
Vali smiled. "Quite right. When this Aelfred fellow marries into the family, I'm sure trade between my humble hovel and your kingdom will go swimmingly." Ellie nodded as he took her goblet and shoved it into a great boiling bowl hanging over the fire. "Is it wishful of me to hope we can celebrate as much as we did when you and your mother were here," he gave a flashy smile. "How much do you remember?"
Ellie hesitated for a moment, then decided it was best to tell him as much as possible. "My memories feel like the pages of an old book. I can flick through, but they feel thin and worn. If I pull too hard, they'll break away and be lost forever. The goddess Frigga gave me my memories back using an ancient magic, and I don't think my own body was ready to open that door."
He nodded, not at all perturbed. "That must be tiresome."
"I don't feel tired," she said. "Returning the Alkar stone is all I can think about. If I could leave now and cross the country alone, I would do so."
"And not live a little on your way?" he tilted his head. "Not drink and laugh and love before the end of your task?"
"There is only this journey."
"We are working together so this is an after, princess Eurelia," he said, his eyes fixed on her face. "You don't think it's good for you to have a little dance, a little romance and song, until you can practise for the celebrations after the war is won? No need for haste, but you should find someone to share your side. It's lonely in the middle of a war, and the weeks are cold." He hugged his children tighter, and fixed her with a soft smile. "Demand a little attention, princess Eurelia. You don't have to huddle by the fire."
"I like it by the fire, it's where i was spoiled in the Allfather's kingdom and courted by servants all day long."
Vali smiled wider, tilting his head at her prod. "You must understand that my physical stature does not really align with my power as a lord. I have to be a little... aggressive over comms–fettled you, did I?"
Their conversation had been entirely enlightening, and she felt elevated as she wandered to a table at the other side of the hall. She clamped a friendly hand on Lounn's shoulder, goblet still in hand, and took to sitting with those she trained with so long ago.
"Oh, he called for his raven, and he called for his staff, and he called for his warriors three," Malai sang irreverently, eliciting an odd look from Gustav.
Vidar whistled loudly, approaching their bench with a tray of horns, filled to the brim with moonshine. "The mighty band reunites!" he shoved the drinks down and clambered onto the table. "A tale to start our night!"
"Oh, please. Not another story about Demuirge," Ajun rolled his eyes.
"No, let us have..."
Naeva, who sat nursing a swollen cheek from that day's battle, raised a brow. "Tell us of the Ljósálfar of Álfheimr."
"What about Galactus and Thor?" Gustav raised his drink towards the Asgardian princes, though both were preoccupied with a heart-faced elven lady who wore a silver diadem. She had a plumpness in her rosy cheeks that reminded Ellie of Vali. A relation perhaps? The others paid them no mind, reeling off fables. "Xorr and Loki? What about the Tower of Solitude? When they faced the storm giants rage as one?"
Naeva's irritation surpassed argument. "I have had quite enough of our own history. What do you know of those fairer than the sun? Why do you not tease Ellie with a little of her own people?"
Lounn's arm wrapped over Ellie's shoulders. "She's our people, too."
"In all aspects except for her horse-riding abilities."
"We've all got our weaknesses."
"Some of us get punched in the face too much," Ellie tilted her head at Naeva, "don't we, little musa?"
Their merry band of warriors did not remain entirely intimate, and Thor took to joining them. At his gesture, a servant proceeded to bring a lute and drum. To which Gustav took the drum and proceeded to beat softly, and Malai tuned the lute, plucking the strings delicately. There was a wistful look; dreamy upon her low eyelids. Ellie knew she was thinking of her fae lover.
"A story of me?" Thor pushed excitedly. "Or of my great father? The Allfather of the Realms?"
"Thor," Ellie cautioned him. "Vidar is singing of the Ljósálfar."
"Oh! er, aye! Of course!"
Instrument tuned to satisfaction, Vidar pushed his braids behind his ears and twisted his curled moustache.
Ellie noticed that Thor was not watching Vidar but he was peering over towards his brother. She followed his gaze and spotted the tall, black-haired figure of Loki Odinson, with the sweet-faced lady on his arm. She stood quite shorter than him, beaming at something witty he had said.
"Who does Loki bring with him?" Ellie asked Thor.
"She is the eldest daughter of Vali."
Feeling expansive, Ellie stood up and waved at them both. The woman waved back shyly. Loki smiled, weaving around to her side of the table. His gaze upon her was warm, if not more formal than usual. His bow to Ellie was gentle.
"Princess Eurelia," the woman said. "My name is Hulda." She was a significant looking elf, curvy and adorned with curly red hair which Ellie struggled to pull her eyes away from. She served with grace, and took her seat amongst the gazes of the warriors around her.
Vidar began with a simple song, entirely in Norse with a strong rhyming chime to the verse. The spring of the lute and softness of the drum echoed through the words. The simplicity was deceptive, but then Ellie found herself leaning forward, hypnotised by Vidar's sound.
A shoulder brushed against Ellie. She blinked, detaching from the trance, to look at Loki. His attention seemed distracted by something as he was already looking at her.
There was a brief pause for Vidar to catch his breath, Ellie asked Loki in a low voice, "do you mind translating? I'm still a bit shaky with my Norse."
"I've never heard these stories before," he answered. "I'll tell you all the gruesome details."
"The really nasty stuff. You must indulge me." It was her childish grin, lighting up her face that Loki mirrored.
Vidar launched into another ballad and Loki leaned closer to Ellie. From an onlooker, the pair must've looked rather giddy as they grinned in unison and muttered intangibly between each other.
"Listen closely." And Loki launched into a verbatim of the ballad, slipping between English and Norse. It was an old tale, about a the great-grandfather (thousands of year ago in Elven life-spans) of Freyr who loved a young pixie, but felt unworthy of her because he did not live in the forests or understand them, so he went off into the woods. The young elf climbed up the trees and met fae who menaced him and stromkarls who entranced him, found stardust, gave his name to the pixies, and climbed down only to find the young pixie had wed a tree.
"And which would you do?" Ellie asked.
"Me?" Loki seemed entertained by the question. "Well, I would know that my fancy prefers the intimacies of tree to begin with."
"Oh, shut up."
He laughed with her, but then thought about the question. "I have no attraction to pixies, and it's impossible for me to be bewitched my fae. I don't need to find stardust and the stromkarls are not the entrancing type."
Loki sat back so Hulda could get a better view of Vidar. Ellie could see she was bewitched by their presence in the hall and rather sweet about having Loki as her guide. Ellie leaned out of the way so the girl could enjoy Vidar fully and she ended up close to Loki.
"I can tell you what else he has to say," he mostly whispered in her ear.
Vidar's voice sang clearly, each word pitched with excitement.
"It was a time, six hundred years ago..." he said in English, and a sense of comfort filled her. How many times had she listened to Loki's voice? Hung on the edge of his words like they were droplets of fresh water and she dying of thirst.
"There was a clan of Elven Folk born from the roots of Álfheimr," he said. "And the roots of their seed was Celestial Chaos, that Klrala consumed, so the magic of the Ljósálfar was purple at heart. And after the passing of Klrala and the Chaos was buried where she fell, the Elven Folk that came to dwell in the tree amongst the walls of purple Chaos magic, for the elves had something the Chaos magicians did not, and the Elven folk thought their babes might be born purple with the deep magic trying to grab hold of whatever if could.
"Now, the only child of Klrala, Chinn Oír, was up at the top of the tree, tending to the fresh leaves, on the night when she was heavily with child. And she felt the branches of the tree moving around her as the child within started to move as well. The tree pulled her close, closer and closer until she was in the tree itself. Chinn Oír fell inside as her babe fought to get out."
The story was received with a sort of collective wonder, a unison of awe, and was quickly followed by curious looks at Ellie herself. She leaned closer to Loki as if he could wrap her up in his words and hide her away.
Loki listened more closely for her and in her ear relayed its translation:
"Chinn Oír's people heard her voice from inside, "I am the daughter of Klrala. The Celestials have their hold on me. Their Chaos will not let me go."
So the Elven folk hurried to hack at the tree and found it would not break, it would not burn and it would not let Chinn go. They heard her crying out: 'I am the daughter of Klrala. Klrala.' The Elven Folk gathered around the tree and sought out prayer. They called for the Chaos to return their queen. Suddenly the night grew and there was the sound of Chinn calling her mother's name. Then the tree opened and unfurled their branches to reveal the born child. A boy, whose eyes were at first purple and frightening, but they bundled him in his eyes turned the colour of grass beneath sunlight. But the entire night, they heard Chinn crying her mother's name. Until her voice turned raw and in her delirious exhaustion...
"Klrala... Kalra... Alkar... Alkar... Alkar... let go."
And the ancestor swallowed by the tree, consumed had given life to the Elven clan. Ellie could feel the hairs rising on her forearms, as though cold. Something occured to her, that she was following in the footsteps of the past. The rising excitement made her feel sick, and she reached for her goblet.
"Careful." Her groping fingers fumbled on the heavy drink which she carelessly left too close to the edge of the table. Loki's long arm stretched and the goblet halted midair, the moonshine frozen in its spill. He enchanted it back into its place, drink intact.
"Intoxicated?" he quizzed.
"No, I've just become a bit overwhelmed by the crowd."
"Maybe, some fresh air will suit you well," he said firmly. "It's getting late." And putting his hand under her elbow as she stood, her moved her through the hall, leaving the merry band singing.
Loki followed her up to her chamber, and to her surprise bowed. She stood at the door, wanting to say something meaningful. But she had forgotten most of her words, except for: "Chaos. I'm made of Chaos."
"Chaos is more than what you think. It's not madness or fury."
"I know what Chaos is, Loki," she snapped, backing into her room and reaching to untie her harness. She felt quite overwhelmed, embarrassed and confused. The grip on her straps tightened and she hissed in desperation. To her surprise, Loki had come in and shut the door. "Help me get this off," she had her fingers in one of the knots.
He was gentle with her. Easing the ties until one had slipped from her left shoulder. Her placed a hand over hers and untied the other side. Her linen shirt with its balloon sleeves and flowy fabric suddenly felt like a balloon over her; hiding the swollen muscles and bruises.
"Thank you," she said, but then he had shed his own shirt. Ellie spluttered a string of incoherent questions to which he raised a hand.
"You're not the only thing made of Chaos, Ellie," he said, flicking his wrist and the fireplace crackled to life. Their bodies bathed in red light. "Before you spend the night distressing over your blood and your future, I wanted you to see me."
"See you naked?" She held her gaze on his face rather diligently.
He glanced sidelong as her, then looked down a bit sheepishly. "Well, I know my godly form is unmistakable and has sent onlookers to their knees."
"You're so humble."
"If I were, everyone would be looking upon this. But no, it's the marks." Seeing her eyebrows raised, her went on to explain. "My skin isn't like this – my mother knows, I mean she raised me with her witchcraft and magic, but no one else has seen it. And to know something like this exists physically upon me is not the same as seeing it." He ran a hand down his front and Ellie followed it with her eyes. The smoothness of his strong form, muscles tight beneath his skin. A warrior and a god in his own right. She wondered if her own god would look the same, but there seemed only to be Loki.
As he moved his hand across himself, his skin changed. Deep grooves ran through his flesh, winding around his arms and legs and chest.
"My mother said there is sometimes a price to magic." He soundly mildly pleasant, and paused for a moment to think about it. "I haven't figured out why mine is this... but I've mastered the art of hiding it well."
He stood patiently, not moving as Ellie circled behind him and inspected his back. She ghosted the air of the grooves with her finger. By firelight, the grooves had deep shadows. They covered his entire back and loped both over his shoulders and up his neck. While many lines were thick, some were thinner. Ellie thought it was like an ancient language carved into his skin. For it was fair and fresh, and the lines of bone and muscle were strong and graceful, his shoulder square-set either side of a smooth, straight backbone deeply cut into the columns of muscle rising either side.
Loki was right too. This was Chaos. Involuntarily, she reached out, as though she might feel Chaos with her touch and understand what it meant. He sighed, but didn't move as she traced the groove over his shoulder and along his collarbone. When she stood in front of him, she rested her hand at last against his cheek in silence.
He placed his hand over hers, and squeezed light in acknowledgement of the things to come.
"Chaos will come for you," he said quietly. "And you will know it as home." Then he let go and the spell was broken. "There is more than the bondage of magic," he said, the grooves began to disappear.
"Perhaps," she said, clearing her throat. "They don't look shameful, Loki. They are part of you. Don't hide from me. I have never hidden from you."
He put his shirt back on, leaving it loose around his leather trousers. The softness of their attire was a nice thought in Ellie's mind.
There was an awkward pause at the door as he left, seeking something to say in farewell. Finally, he invited her to come to the stable the next day so they might ride side by side to the next fort. Ellie promised she would and she reached the doorway to watch him walk away.
"What was it?" Ellie called awkwardly. "What you said to me on the field?"
"I said many things to you on the field." He stopped and tilted his head at her question. "Eltmikr.
She smiled. "Stål mit mer?"
They both said goodnight, speaking at the same time. They laughed and bowed absurdly to each other as she shut the door. She went at once to bed and fell asleep running her fingers over her chest in the same weaving pattern of Loki's Chaos.
Comment:
After a year hiatus, I'm back, baby! Back and with 50000 words of this fan-fiction under my belt. The entire fan-fiction is being edited and re-published as I have grown as a writer and I currently finishing my first book with talks of getting published in the next year!
Hope you're all well x