Worship of the Gods

"You need to spend time crawling alone through shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun."

Shaun Hick

Chapter Seven: A Dancing Master

"On Earth, this is called torture," Ellie strained, bending her back so the agony was less so. Sunlight streamed onto Tamra and her human student, through windows made of yellow glass. The small room was situated in a tower far away from Ellie's room. It had been a warm up climbing the steps to reach it.

In a circular space, Ellie and Tamra were on two purple mats in the middle of the floor. The walls were made of glass, showing Asgard in its entirety to anyone inside. However, that meant that onlookers could watch Ellie struggling to train her muscles to work.

Since breakfast, Tamra had been instructed to teach Ellie the art of muscle relaxation and posture alignment. It was necessary if Ellie was to succeed in weaponry training.

On all fours with her wrists aligned with her shoulders and knees with her hips, Ellie firmly planted her palms on the ground and began to straighten out her legs. Her hamstrings became tight and begged for release.

"Remind me why I'm doing this?" Ellie panted, a bead of sweat dribbling down her forehead.

Tamra breathed evenly. "The fate of the Light Elves, dear one."

"Ah," Ellie said, "right."

"Now, hollow out the abdominals and engage your legs. That's it, Ellie." Tamra demonstrated with ease, moving her body like a lithe string bean. For her age, the woman was in remarkable shape. How was she old enough to have taught the thousand-year-old Odinsons and be as fit as a fiddle? "Move your torso back. And breathe…"

"Breathe…" Ellie exhaled the word, pain gushing on the final syllable. "Gordon Bennet. For an old bag, you sure are fit." As soon as the words fell out of her mouth, she slapped a hand over her face and crumpled to the floor. "I didn't mean that."

Tamra's eyes were closed. She released a long breath. Perhaps it was full of curse words and venomous retorts. Ellie watched her, fearing she was about to get the royal treatment in punishment.

"I– "she started.

"No," Tamra interrupted.

"Sorry– "

"Stop."

"But, I – "

Tamra huffed and opened her eyes with a snap. She resembled an annoyed mother. "Will you pipe it?" she asked. Ellie closed her mouth. "For an old bag, I am, what you Midgardians call, fit. From the tone of your voice I assume that is a compliment. I shall disregard the first part because I am especially generous."

Ellie cursed her inability to keep her mouth shut at times. On the bridge she had truly embarrassed herself in front of Loki and Frigga and it seemed her endeavours were continuing for everyone she met. With an awkward smile, border-lining a grimace, Ellie continued her stretch.

"Tamra," she started after a moment. "Is everyone on Asgard a God?"

"No. Why do you ask? We haven't reached that part of my teaching yet," she replied.

"We haven't, but – Loki said something to me a couple days ago. He called himself a God."

"He is one, as is Thor and Frigga."

An unsettling feeling welled inside of Ellie. God existed independently in thought, but he sustained everything in the universe. He was omnipotent and eternal. Loki was not all-knowing, neither was Thor. They all aged. "Gods are eternal beings. They sustain and create things," she said thoughtfully. Tamra scoffed at this.

"Who told you this?" she asked.

"I did a module on theism." Copying Tamra's relaxation pose, she continued, "Professor Martin, I think his name was. Complete loony, but he was passionate – made it interesting."

"Your Midgardian professor was wrong about Gods. As for the royal family, they are Aesir. Which is a tribe of beautifully gifted beings."

"Magic," Ellie said breathily and Tamra nodded. "So, they don't live forever? They're just powerful?"

"They're not just powerful. They evoke adoration, desire and power. Creatures fear them. The envious love them. Nothing matches the Aesir beings."

Ellie was unable to reply. Deep in thought about her own beliefs. She imagined Loki transforming into a wolf again and the darkness in his eyes as he fought his brother. Still, she couldn't bring herself to truly believe they were Gods at all.

"You're tensing," Tamra said pointedly. Ellie looked across and found her teacher giving her an annoyed stare. "The point of muscle relaxation is to relax and strengthen your body. Instead, you look as if your head is exploding. Remove the frown."

Ellie blinked but did as she was told.

They moved onto their backs, lengthening their core and exhaling any pent up frustration. Tamra didn't have many, her breathing was calm and controlled. Ellie continued to pant like a dog for the remainder of the session. She was sweating profusely from every pore in her body. The beating sun didn't help.

As Tamra pressed a muslin cloth to her forehead, getting rid of the beads of her own sweat, she got ready to head for lunch. "Will you join me?" she asked gently.

"Can I just… stay here for a moment? Catch my breath?" Ellie asked, looking up at her instructor. Tamra pushed a curl behind her ear, looking over the human. After a moment, she nodded.

"Yes, you may gather yourself. When the sun is highest, then you must go to the training hall in the South-East wing," Tamra said with a point of her hand at the shining beacon hanging in the sky above Asgard. Ellie looked away, listening for the gentle creak of the door.

With Tamra gone, Ellie's loneliness threatened to creep back with a vengeance. However, she crawled closer to the glass wall and took a seat. Straightening her back, she crossed her legs and held her hands in her lap. Rubbing a gentle thumb over the Apostle's Creed on her Rosary, Ellie hyper-focused on the smoothness of the varnished wood.

Unlike the runes dotted around Asgard, her Apostle's Creed was void of designs. It was plain; soft against her worrisome hands.

She looked up at the Kingdom laid out before her. Appearing as a golden-cast painting, it took her breath away. In the distance were floating gold statues. They hung in the sky, dipping and rising as if floating on an ever-existent sea. Narrowing her eyes, Ellie noticed they were heads. In the middle was Odin, his face smooth and gold. Around him floated other heads, one of a horned man, another was a woman with four eyes.

They turned like the Sun did in Earth's solar system.

Ellie looked down and ran a finger over the dark brown beads on her wrist. Believing the Earth was the centre of the universe was an ancient catholic belief which not many found truth in anymore. Even the Revered Mother insisted it was the Sun at the centre of us.

Coming to Asgard, Ellie was affirmed with the truth that human beings were not the centre of all life. They were infinitesimal. "How are we so small? Yet, you tell me that all life is sacred?" Ellie asked aloud. If it was her destiny to return this god-like stone, then murder was a crucial part.

"I do not seek pain, dear God," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I do not seek to hurt others; to fill my heart with murder; to be unforgiving. Find peace for the wargs I killed and his children. Fill them with light." Upon shuddering the final part of her prayer, Ellie was surprised that the words came from her mouth. Wishing peace for her enemy was crucial. Usually an enemy was an ex-boyfriend, or that one friend who snogged an old boyfriend, or the professor who failed one of her modules. Not creatures from another planet.

Warmth spread over Ellie's chest, holding her in eternal sunlight for an intoxicating moment. Goosebumps prickled up her arms and legs.

At midday, Ellie headed to the small training hall. It was empty except for a single man who stood in front of one of the tall stained-glass windows on the opposite side of the room. His curly, bright hair added to the lanky shadow of his entire body.

"Girl, you are late," he said. Ellie, aching slightly from her morning stretch, made her way towards him a little quicker.

"Who are you?" Ellie asked bluntly.

"My name is Bil," he said, his voice accentuated with something close to Geordie. He threw a sword at her. She darted sideways, watching it clatter to the floor. "You will catch it next time we see one another, girl."

Raising a thick black eyebrow, Bil shot the sword a nod. After Ellie picked it up, she held the grip unsteadily. It was the real thing, with a pommel, hilt and blade. It was much heavier than anything Ellie had held before.

"How did they use these?" she grumbled, tightening her grip.

"It's not a… what do you call it," Bil debated. "Baseball bat! It's not one of those, you're not about to hit a ball. One hand alone."

"It's too heavy," Ellie said as she lifted her right hand off and struggled to hold with her left. Bil nodded slowly, approving of her hand choice. "Good. Left will confuse your opponent, unless they are particularly skilled then it will make no difference."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Death is an option we are open to. I have to prepare you for all outcomes."

"Surely you can't be a good teacher if you're telling me I'm going to die."

"You believe I am telling you your fate?" Bil questioned, angling his body sideways. He began creeping across the room, one foot in front of the other oddly. "Not all of us possess the slithering art of Völva and prophecy, Ellie Adams. I'm here to teach you how to make death your slave." He moved closer, his black eyes dancing down to the sword. "Now, turn your body like me and show me your grip."

Moving her fingers with his gloved hand, Ellie watched how the spaces made the weight feel slightly worse. She flexed her hands.

"Don't squeeze it like the neck of a whore."

"I'll drop it if I don't," she replied quickly.

"How will you drop it? The sword is you. Connect your body to the blade. Your bones are made of steel, girl," the young man told her.

"My name is Ellie," she objected.

"Girl, child, human," Bil said. "You are a warrior. Now, you hold the grip. We begin our dance."

Ellie raised the sword and lunged at him. He swiped his own, throwing her off balance. For hours, she attempted to strike him. Until her muscles were aching, she tried and to no avail did she get an inch closer to him. All Bil did was tell her how to stand, how to dance and how to survive each time he killed her.

She left the training hall with sore arms and fingers. Gripping the sword was more hassle than it was worth, and Ellie felt as if she were decades away from being a slice of Bil's fighting ability.

Tamra, unlike Ellie, was wearing a fresh gown. Her hair was immaculate and pulled back into a fresh bun. There wasn't a slither of sweat on her face, or sign that she had been exercising at all.

Ellie slumped into the oak chair opposite Tamra's rune board. She pushed a hand through her knotted hair, pulling her palm away in disgust at the greasiness of it. It was a blessing that Tamra cared not for her appearance, only her skills.

Studying animals was her task for today. Surprisingly, the all-language was becoming easier to understand. There was some form of wizardry behind it, Ellie was sure. When she was a teenager, she attempted to learn French and could only master Bonjoursounding more like bong-sewer.

Using the quill was becoming easier. The scratching of the nib made her cringe, but quill and inkpots were a way of educational life in the orphanage, so it was simply re-awakening muscle memory for Ellie. She sketched a poor imitation of adain, which was an Asgardian deer who ate leaves and lived in the forests of Asgard.

They were sacred; hunted for great feasts and the walls of rich merchants. Tamra described the delicacy of dian meat. It would arrive in ribbons on silver platters and Asgardians could eat it alone or sandwiched between two slices of crusty bread and oil.

"You know I haven't eaten lunch." Ellie's stomach rumbled loudly.

Tamra smacked her lips together, her eyes glinting. "With a crisp piece of oak lettuce and angrboda vegetable pieces – even Valhalla is jealous," she continued to tease.

The lesson continued for several hours. Ellie could feel her legs cramping up as the unused hamstrings moaned in laziness.

As Ellie sat in the warm sunlight, she yawned, "bjarn-dýr." She raised her hands to re-enact the animal. "Bear." Tamra turned around, eyebrows raised.

"Am I boring you?" she asked.

"No," Ellie shook her head. She blinked several times, trying to appear less tired. "Of course not."

Tamra scoffed but accepted the lie regardless.

"Köttr. Cat." Ellie leaned on her hand. "You know cats can sleep for twenty hours a day?" she asked idly. "They can sleep and sleep, only getting up to eat. Revered Mother used to have one and it slept in her office… on the windowsill… stretched out… in the warm sun…"

"You humans are impossible," Tamra gushed. "This session is over. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ellie blinked quickly. "What? Why? I'm awake. I'm listening!"

"You're mumbling about a cat, Ellie. Hardly coherently, either," she grumbled. Tamra ran a hand over the Asgardian board and it disappeared along with all of her diagrams.

"I want to learn more. I can do it, Tamra," she pushed, nearly knocking over the inkpot.

Tamra sighed, rubbing her temples. "I know you want to learn, but there is time to do so. You've already done quite a bit today regardless. Just go and sleep. Wake up tomorrow ready for my teaching and double reading comprehensions."

Ellie was defeated, but also grateful. Folding up her parchment and loading her arms with several books, she left the room. Sun fluttered through the windows of the castle so dust particles were illuminated in the air. They danced in front of Ellie, swirling and twirling in the gentle breeze.

The guards she walked past on a daily basis didn't attempt to hide their stares. At first, Ellie wanted to run back to her chambers, but it was becoming a normal affair. On that day, she was too tired to care.

Bil's fighting techniques plagued Ellie's mind as she settled in a chair inside of her chambers. Lunch laid out on a tray, she stared at the soft bread and chilli butter and could only see Bil's ashy hair in the yellow colour. There was a flagon of water and a brass goblet set out. A part of Ellie missed the awkward company of Cecelia.

Dreams of Bil lulled Ellie to sleep. She was practising with him, stepping around the master like a river-dancer. With a real sword in hand, she turned her body as a well-fought Asgardian would.

In her dreams, she was free of her inner turmoil. Gentle breeze swept about the training room, rustling stray leaves along the floor and up her legs. Kisses of plucked flowers floated around her as she dove and strike Bil like a steady warrior.

"Ellie," Bil said each time she landed the sword perfectly. "Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…"

No. The voice was different; faint and timid. Her dream became foggy, sweeping away like paint in a river.

"Ellie," Cecelia called again.

Groggily returning to reality, Ellie rubbed her eyes and stared up at the handmaiden. Cecelia was looking back, waiting patiently.

Ellie blinked in surprise, opening her mouth to greet Cecelia. She didn't hate the girl, not one bit, for telling Odin everything. Maybe she had only told her friends and then word had spread. Either way, it didn't matter. There was a human distaste Ellie couldn't help but feel towards her, but the only repercussion of that feeling was that Ellie would never tell Cecelia about her spiritual / universal beliefs again.

"Cecelia, I'm…" she began.

"A letter from her royal highness, Queen Frigga," she interrupted. Ellie fell silent, nervousness creeping in. What more news did the Queen have? Was she to dance naked in front of the Kingdom? Catapult herself across it? Marry an Asgardian to legitimise her being here?

She nearly laughed aloud.

Taking the pristinely folded letter from the tray, Ellie opened it and read the cursive English. Frigga's penmanship could've won art awards. As Ellie finished reading it, she noticed Cecelia was unfolding a number of silver fabrics.

"Dinner," Ellie muttered quietly, "they want me to eat with them."

References:

- Bonjour/ Bong-Sewer – Hagrid's attempt at talking to Madam Maxine in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire novelisation. Made me giggles for hours when I first read it.

- Dancing Master – inspired by George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series where Arya learns how to parry with her 'dancing master'.

please review / comment – it helps me improve !

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