Worship of the Gods
If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we made for another world.
C.S. Lewis
Chapter Five: Lessons Unlearnt
Tamra turned out to be what she appeared, a placid, calming woman with extensive knowledge of the universe's languages. Well-slept, her wrinkled skin reminded Ellie of Reverend Mother at the orphanage.
The purple gown Tamra wore dragged across the rug as she approached the sheer, futuristic demonstration board. It was similar to a blackboard, only Tamra could use her finger to write in white ink. Ellie sat with her back to the window, appreciating the warm sun licking her back as she scribbled the alphabet.
"The all-language is a gift Asgardians share. Our words naturally shift into the native tongue of whoever we are speaking to." Ellie's eyes immediately went to Tamra's mouth. She watched the movements, searching for the odd movements you see when watched a dubbed film. Tamra spoke English and Ellie wanted to learn how.
"Over time," Tamra continued, "we will expand your spiritual presence so you will also be able to harness the all-language. For now, Old-Norse which is a Midgardian mixture of Germanic, Icelandic and so forth. It was taught to Midgardians in the country of Scandinavia."
Ellie was practising hand-written Old-Norse, a difficult and artistic language which required hard concentration. "My hand hurts," Ellie groaned, she moved her hand and knocking the ink pot over. It spilled onto the table, dripping onto the floor. "Oh, shit."
Tamra began dabbing the table with her handkerchief, mopping it up before starting on the floor. It had, thankfully, spilled onto wood and not an extravagant rug. Ellie began patting the table with her sleeve, wiping up as much from her sheets as possible.
The Norse alphabet, or her attempt at it, was ruined.
"Ellie!" Tamra scolded, pulling the human's hand away from the table. "Your dress!"
"Oh, uh," Ellie stammered, used to the behaviour going unnoticed. "Gordon Bennet!" she spat. Her lilac sleeve was stained black, the splodge spreading through the soft material. "I've done this before – if we get a bottle of glycerine and bleach, we can clean this bad-boy out in no time."
"Your language is so colourful," Tamra said half-heartedly. "We'll have to leave it to the maidens to sort. After our session, I shall call Cecelia to help you change." Ellie was about to say she didn't need help, but she decided to save it for Cecelia. The poor handmaiden had to deal with enough.
"What? But I thought that it was Dé?" Ellie asked, frustrated. "Is it not the same as D?"
Tamra shook her head and sighed. "Maybe we should continue tomorrow. We've already done two hours together."
"No. I want to learn it today," Ellie pleaded. She straightened in the chair, holding the quill tighter. Tamra met the expectant eyes of the human and gave in.
"It's especially hard to learn a new language when you're an adult. When you are a youngling, it's as simple as looking someone in the eye."
Tamra was gentle. She was coaxing and informative, treating Ellie with the patience of one of her infant pupils.
"You taught many people?" Ellie asked, her hand stilling over the parchment.
"Yes. I was the tutor for the young princes."
Ellie's eyes widened. Royal treatment. "Loki and Thor. What were they like?"
Tamra chuckled, fond of the memories. "I taught them together. A terrible mistake but the King insisted; they're brothers after all. They were undeniably excelled and learnt fast, but the pair were devilishly difficult to keep entertained." Ellie imagined so. "When Thor wasn't distracting Loki, Loki was distracting Thor."
With a grin, Ellie leaned forwards. "How?"
"Oh, one day especially, Thor had been presented his arm ring – a tradition for Asgardians when they pass the Trial of Youth – he came in and used it as a boomerang, frightening Loki." Ellie began to laugh with Tamra. "Well, Loki has always been a minx. He transformed the arm ring into a snake, throwing it back to Thor. He screamed so high, the palace dogs came running to his rescue."
Listening to such light-hearted tales was as fresh as spring water on Ellie's ear. She sat, resting her head in her hand, watching Tamra animatedly retelling the princes' childhoods. The dark hole created by the Völva was filling in with innocent splendour.
In between the laughter, Ellie became better at remembering the difference between the letters in the Norse Alphabet. She struggled with Dé and D still, but learning was a slow affair. Painful and slow. The Nuns were painful and slow teachers too.
As Ellie left Tamra's company, she rubbed the ink marks on the palm of her hand. The black stain spread into the crevices of her skin, stretching out like branches. A bath was definitely in order.
The path to and from the study was the only one she was sure of. Not one for exploration, Ellie stuck to it until she understood her place in Asgard better.
With no other council meetings, no word from Odin. Frigga was the only person to visit Ellie. They kept their conversations short, much to Ellie's regret. However, the life of a Queen was hectic and busy. The fact Frigga spared even a moment for Ellie was assuring that she was doing something right.
Maybe it was just maternal pity.
Ellie headed for her chambers, holding her books to her chest tightly. She felt the eyes of the royal guests on her as she passed. Clearly the Völva's visit sparked gossip to run on a continuous loop through Asgard.
None of the Asgardians had asked her to her face just yet, which was surprising. If they did, Ellie would blurt out a string of incoherent babble which was manifested from her confusion.
In an exhausted huff, Ellie leaned against her chamber door and slid inside. She scratched at the tied dress around her midriff and pulled the strings. It came undone, the outer dark blue shell of her outfit falling away and to the ground.
Ellie splashed cold water on her face and went to the bed. She discarded the underdress and curled up beneath the silk covers. When she went to bed in her London apartment, she could forget that the world around her existed for a while.
In the darkness, Ellie stretched her fingers over the bare pillow beside her. The smooth material swished in a satisfying lick of comfort.
She let her body rest for a moment, inhaling the lavender around her. It was warm and delicious. With a yawn, she sat up and found her room to be alien. It was large and golden, not dingy and damp.
Ellie remembered. She left the bed and slipped her loose nightdress over herself. In such obscure space, she began to choke. Hot sweat prickled the back of her neck and she chewed her bottom lip, heading for the door.
Wrenching it open, the cool night air hit her body. Nausea slid up her throat. Taking the stairway to the gardens two at a time, Ellie hurried into the open night and headed towards a shrubbery archway.
Inside was a small garden, with a white bench in the middle of waves of flowers. A gentle humming buzzed around her ears. The soft noise settled the ill feeling inside of her and she anxiously walked closer to the flowers.
Ellie brushed her hands over the tall marigolds and primulas. They were silver, glistening like icicles beneath the moonlight. The smooth texture of the petals cooled Ellie's clammy fingers. An insect crawled out, startling her. In a panic, she flung it away and squealed.
She clenched her fists together and shook her head, feeling childishly pathetic. In a huff, she threw herself onto the bench she could see from her floor. It was cool beneath her nightdress, making her shiver.
Wrapping her arms over her chest, she leaned forwards and felt fresh tears springing to her eyes. "Why am I here, God?" she asked aloud. "Why have you left me on this planet?" The Seer's cruel voice echoed in her mind; nowhere was home. She was a drifting vessel of nothing. Odin believed she was a pathetic human. "I am alone here, Heavenly Father," she whispered.
A half-hearted sob hiccupped from Ellie's throat. She pushed a hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes together.
"Do take delight weeping in the royal gardens?" an ice-cold voice said behind her. Ellie jumped at the sound, turning and meeting the son of the King. Loki Odinson stood, beside the opening to a path, with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. "Don't stop on my account."
"Don't think I could if I tried," she said, her voice wobbling. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave her alone, but closed it. Aware that Loki didn't care for her feelings at all and she was on his property. Still, she didn't move, feeling frozen by her stupidity. After being moved from place to place, she should've dealt better with moving to another planet. She wiped her undereye quickly.
"I don't fault you for weeping," Loki said, watching her from the shadows. "Call it curiosity that I wonder why you have struggled all the way from your bed just to sit here."
"I can see the flowers from the balcony," she lied quietly. "They looked like stars and I wanted to know if they… looked as pretty up close. Also, if you were riding over the hills, I didn't want to get in the way."
"Midnight rides aren't an activity I do often. The next time I assured my stead that he could continue trampling as he pleased."
"You're a real gentleman," Ellie remarked. "Midnight walks aren't something I do on the regular either." Ellie didn't sleep enough to make to the morning peacefully it seemed.
"Tell me, Midgardian, what did the Völva prophesise you?"
"Ellie," she said abruptly. "My name is Ellie."
"I'm aware," he said non-clamantly.
"Then why don't you use it?" She shot him a poignant look and rolled her eyes. Truth be told, Loki enjoyed using her species because it presented the rank of her birth. However, the human's self-righteousness would prevent Loki from finding out what he wanted to know.
"Eurelia," he tested, the word sliding off his tongue with regal intent. The human turned her head, agitated but pleased nonetheless. "What did the Völva say to you, Eurelia?"
"How did you do it?" she interrupted. Loki stared openly at her. "That night, you did something with your hands. You crushed that creature with… green light. What was that?"
"It was magic."
"Magic?"
"Yes."
"Oh," she whispered. Loki folded his arms, watching her with calculated curiosity. Blunt truth was sometimes the greatest pain to inflict and it gave Loki a pang of joy watching the human mentally battle herself. "There was a magician once," she said distantly, "not in the orphanage; magic was the Devil's work. At the Museum, Roberts hired a magician to perform tricks next to the travelling circus exhibit.
He pulled a rabbit out of a hand and petted its soft head. You crushed the warg. You crushed it like you were cracking an egg."
"Yes." Ellie's eyes snapped to his response. It nearly overwhelmed her when she found Loki's gaze to be attentive and focused.
"What else can you do?" she asked.
The shadow on his face depeened, as if the moon was hiding Loki's sins. "How far does your imagination expand, Eurelia?"
She shivered under his watch, not wanting to answer out of fear. Loki laughed quietly. "What's so funny?" Ellie asked.
"You crave answers which you fear, don't you?"
"I'm only human," she suddenly snapped.
"I've noticed." There was no answer from Ellie. Her face was stoney, staring ahead of her with unkind annoyance. "Well," Loki said pitifully. "If you shan't answer my question, I won't relinquish any of yours." He turned on his heel, beginning the walk back to the royal chambers.
Ellie called for him to wait and he stilled. "The Völva told me I had to return the jewel back to the place it was stolen from," said hurriedly, the words tumbling out like hot coals. "I have to… return light to the darkness."
With his back to her, he moved his head only slightly. The curve of his jaw and nose were all Ellie could see. "What did my father say of all this?"
Ellie swallowed. "He hates me," she said. "He said it was one issue cleared up."
"Disturbed by how I acknowledge you," he said, his voice distantly humorous. "Now you know who I have inherited it from. In all honesty, I doubt it is hatred. If it were you be dead." Loki took a step forwards, about to leave. Ellie stood up abruptly, feeling more confused.
"You didn't let me die." He stopped still. "You didn't let me die on that bridge and you hate me. Please, Loki. No one else is talking to me about this." She watched him turn around, his eyes drifting to her in the moonlight. "What is it about me? Why me?"
"Ask your own God," he said.
"I have."
Loki seemed taken aback by this. Clearly believing for a moment that Ellie was in face-to-face contact with her saviour. "And what did he say to you? Did you not listen to the words of your God?"
"He said..." Ellie's voice dropped to a whisper.
Loki fought his smirk. "Nothing. He said nothing to you, didn't he?"
Uncomfortable and alienated, the human squirmed under his watch. "It's hard to explain," she said.
"Try. I know the ways of the Gods."
It pricked a nerve, hearing Loki claim to have an inch of knowledge about her God. "How would you know what a God would say?"
"Because I am one," he slid back icily. Loki frowned at her momentarily, studying the registering shock on her face. It delighted him. After several heartbeats, he turned away and left the royal gardens. This time, Ellie couldn't bring herself to beg for his continued company.
He returned to his chamber in confused repulsion. The honour bestowed upon him for over a thousand years had been stripped away by her on Midgard. He had never felt so useless and discarded in front of a being who was meant to worship his people. Eurelia was a trial for Asgard and the Nine Realms, it was his duty to assist his father is making her task possible.
The Midgardian was skittish and overbearing. Hot and cold with her emotions like a petrified child who also wanted to taste death. Had the people not informed her of his status? Of the Gods which existed beside her?
Cursing aloud, Loki's finger slipped into his tunic, skimming the scarred skin and remembering the wargs. They didn't petrify him as they did with Eurelia, it was simply another wound to add to the memories which built his character. His skin, pumping with royal blood and otherworldly healing was puckered pink. Still, the dark magic of the wargs flowed through him and tired him out immensely still.
Eurelia could use the Àlkar which shouldn't be possible as she was a Midgardian. Unless she wasn't human at all, and a lost child of Alfheim. A lost royal of Alfheim. She stank of Midgardian mortality – full of selfishness and ignorance, curses and London dialect. That alone confused Loki beyond all he knew. She was mortal, and a child of a poor Midgardian being.
Yet, if Eurelia was the creature Aelfred and Freyr longed for, then Loki teaching her to harness the Àlkar would mean Odin would see his son in a light brighter than Thor's.
Loki's hearing picked up on a sound beneath his chambers. He slowly made his way onto the balcony, leaning against the stone wall for support. Below, were the windows to the guest rooms. One of them was open and out of it, harsh sobbing echoed.
He recognised the glottal stops in the words, the tone and accent were Midgardian.
"Heavenly Father," Eurelia wracked. "Why have you left me here? Why have you cast me out?"
Loki watched the window, his brows knitted together. His bare chest felt the cool night air, prickling the scarred tissue and new skin like kisses. The Midgardian's emotional turmoil was distressing to listen to, least of all experience. Himself and Frigga were empaths, able to sense the emotions of others in a way many couldn't.
Loki swallowed and returned back to his chambers. He closed the door, shutting out the waves of bitter sadness. It was a relief and he exhaled, forcing Eurelia's unrest out of his system.
References:
– Gordon Bennet - British slang for 'bloody hell' or 'oh my god'. Quite fitting for Ellie's character.
please review / comment your thoughts – they make my writing improve and your experiences better! x