Worship of the Gods
"And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."
Edgar Allen Poe, The Raven
Chapter Eight: Crawling Forwards
It didn't seem possible that a day on Asgard could be cloudy. Yet, the skies were dark grey and murderous with rain. Not a drop had been spilled yet, but Ellie could smell it coming. On Earth, the air was always crisp and clear before a downpour. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as a breeze swept through the open windows.
Ellie's leather boots were laced up to her knees. They were lithe, thinly made shoes which were sturdy on her feet but soft on the ground. If her and Bil ever trained outside, she wouldn't have to worry about splitting her heels open on a rocky terrain of some of the preparation theatres. Tamra showed Ellie, that morning, the vast buildings dotted around the upper kingdom which were used to host battle events or competitions between warriors. It took Ellie's breath away.
The circular arenas had thousands of seats running in rivets around a flat stretch of ground. When Ellie and Tamra had visited there were cleaners sweeping the wooden benches and a builder carving a faux mountainous terrain so the fighters weren't just battling their opponent but the environment.
Pulling on her sleeves, Ellie looked to Bil who was staring into a water basin in the corner of the room. He was twisting his moustache carefully, pulling it into a tight curl. Ellie rolled her eyes and relaxed against the stone wall, the cool stone making her shiver.
She continued to observe him, allowing her guard to diminish. As her muscles began to loosen, she exhaled. In an instant a dark brown object was flying through the air towards her.
Ellie let out a cry of shock and flinched away from the sword. Even if it was wooden. The clank, clank of it hitting the ground made her stare at it in disbelief. "Shit," she cursed and glanced at Bil. One of his eyebrows were raised, nearly disappearing into his forehead. "You – you didn't warn me!"
"To say I am surprised would be a lie," he shot back, his crisp accent accentuating the annoyance. "You are a shadow. Dance like one." With a frown, Ellie picked up the sword and approached him. "Say it," he said loudly.
Ellie waited a moment, feeling rather stupid. "I am a shadow."
Flicking his wrist, he stepped sideways. "You are a shadow," he said again.
"I am a shadow," she repeated.
Bil was a nimble man. With no sunlight bouncing off his curly locks, he looked more like a cat instead of a strong, intimidating warrior. "You will dance like a shadow. Say it."
"I will dance like a shadow."
"You are a shadow. You will dance like one."
"I am a shadow. I will dance like one." As the words left her mouth, she entered the stance Bil taught her yesterday. With her sword-arm raised, her Rosary peered out of her sleeve like a peeping creature. Ellie flexed her wrist and the bracelet slid out of sight.
Side-stepping, she entered the darker side of the room. Heavenly Father, make me a shadow. Heavenly Father, make me a dancer.
Bil lunged forward and Ellie caught his sword with hers. The clank echoed loudly. He moved his sword again and she turned her wrist, catching it. Her teacher was going purposely slow which Ellie's poor skills appreciated.
"Hand behind your back," Bil quipped. "Do you want someone chopping your fingers off?" Ellie held her hand behind her back, the pull of her muscles forcing her to straighten up. She needed to see Tamra for more stretches.
As Bil took a quick step forwards, Ellie took one back. It was fluid; like a dance. Their swords clanked again. A ripple of attentiveness slid through her and she moved forwards, sliding her sword from its query and moving it to Bil's other side. With his undeniable ability, he caught it, but raised an eyebrow. "Good," he said, his voice like butter. "Timid mouse coming out to play, no?"
Ellie's lip twitched, wanting to pull up into a sneer. She prayed for strength to not snap at Bil. It was infuriating that not a single soul managed to use her proper name, as if it was so difficult to pronounce compared to the titles of Asgardians. Even Tamra struggled through pronouncing the longest name in Asgardian history. One which Ellie could barely remember anymore.
In regard to herself, it was clear that no one was bothered with formalities if they thought little enough of you.
Ellie lunged forwards but Bil parried and knocked the sword sideways. Taking a step, Ellie missed the end of his weapon. With a great swing, she aimed for Bil's head.
Bil caught her sword with his and she was imposing her strength on him for the first time. He was strong, and Ellie was already out of breath as she forced every inch of her will out.
"Fuck," she said in exasperation as Bil pushed and she tripped backwards. Landing in a heap, she groaned and rubbed the side of her thigh.
Beneath the thin material of her dark purple trousers, she felt the bumpy material of scarring. It was the place she'd been attacked. How long ago was it now?
In her bath that morning she'd observed how the skin was dark purple and prickles around the scarred canine marks. With the ointment Cecelia was leaving her, the raised skin was slowly going down. Time felt a lot faster than Ellie remembered it being and on Earth, it should've taken near a year to recover.
It must've only been a month or so, right?
"Oh, a little ale break, girl? Shall I call a handmaiden? Start roasting a boar?" Bil teased impatiently. "How do you take your bread? Toasted?"
"I get it," she slid back. With a grunt, Ellie pushed herself to her feet and levelled with her dancing master. Bil parried with Ellie immediately. She couldn't stop cursing aloud. "Not very shadow-like, are you?" he commented.
Ellie moved forwards, striking his sword. "How am I meant to be something which isn't considered a thing at all?" Bil's elegant footwork pranced out of her way. He looked down at the ground and continued treading about the room, pointing his feet like an eloquent dancer.
Ellie realised what he was doing. Bil's dark shadow followed his movements, as it would, appearing as a silent entity against the stone. Its shape, sleek and black, surpassed as a deadly assassin.
Peering at her own feet, she watched her elongated shadow and flexed her foot out experimentally. Even as heavy-footed and mundane as she was, her shadow was as smooth as Bil's. Ellie waved her sword-hand around, testing the shadow in a manner like it was alive.
"You see the beauty of a shadow?" Bil asked and Ellie nodded. "That is you. The sensitivity of a shadow's creases; of the limbs and posture, is all you. Even a grotesque creature has a shadow made of lithe allure."
Ellie looked back up at Bil and met his steady gaze. "What about at night?"
"That's when the shadow crawls back up your feet and inside," he said, raising his sword and touching the nimble end to the middle of her chest. Holding her breath, Ellie raised her weapon and moved the sword away. His curled, dark eyebrow rose, and a grin emerged on his lips. "Come on, human."
She didn't move and waited for him to do it first. Their eyes were locked but Ellie could see that he was testing her. "How am I meant to be a shadow if you just stand there?" she said in exasperation. "I'm not getting any better." Bil said nothing, only watching her. It infuriated Ellie further. "Well?" she demanded. "Why don't you talk?"
Still, her dancing master remained silent. Ellie was becoming increasingly aware that she sounded like a little girl throwing a temper tantrum. Being so far behind the entire kingdom was one of the most irritating aspects of her life so far.
Ellie swallowed and was still for another moment, testing the atmosphere to see if the wind would miraculously tell her what Bil would do next. When there was no movement from him, except the twitching of his smirk, Ellie took matters in her own hands. A buried ferociousness emerged.
She span and raised her sword with a cry. Bil used two hands to meet it. Shoving Bil with all of her human strength, she brought the sword down on him again, and again.
Each time, she was met by him. Each time, she craved victory a little more.
Wind whistled through her ponytail which flicked her cheeks sharply. Sweat built up along her forehead and the long sleeve top was becoming uncomfortable. Her clothing was heavy on her body, constraining her movements. With a frustrated hiss, Ellie battled against Bil. His movements weren't as erratic as hers; he barely moved in fact. But he hadn't knocked Ellie over yet.
"Fight back!" she begged, her voice strained and distant. It was unlike anything Ellie had pleaded before. She felt alienated by herself. "Come on!"
"This anger," Bil enquired. "Oh, lovely. That's it!" With an undercut, Ellie was an inch from hitting Bil's legs, but he knocked the weapon sideways.
"I'm not angry. I'm fucked off," she hissed, "with being called human like it's an insult."
"Is it not?"
Ellie changed her mind in the last second and swung the sword around her head and then against Bil's chest. He leapt out of the way, which was worth an inch of improvement compared to her first practise with him. Breathing heavily, she was still pulsing with annoyance and didn't have it in her to celebrate. Throwing the wooden weapon back at Bil, she crossed her arms and watched him with extreme dislike.
Bil caught the sword in his free hand. "You should use your anger. Anger gets your blood pumping."
Pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, she felt her voice shake with the fierce pumping of her heart. "That inferring your blood didn't pump before. I don't like being angry."
"It's the only emotion which will bring out the warrior," he said. Ellie didn't want to be a warrior. She clamped her mouth shut and clenched her fists. "Soon, you will join the fleet of warriors. We are testing the water for you before you dive."
"What do you mean join the fleet?" she asked worriedly. "Will you not teach me until I'm completely ready?"
"I am parrying instructor. You only need me for the beginning."
"When will I start training with Asgardians? I'm not…" On her lips, the word died, and she felt dread creeping in. The thought of huge, strong fighters pitching against her was mortifying.
"Of course, you're not ready. You will be. A few weeks at most I'm told. Our King and Queen Mother have been assessing your lessons rather closely." As she looked around, she couldn't see a hidden surveillance camcorder. Then again, it was Asgard. They were probably using crystal balls and carrier ravens. Bil smirked at her fright. "Speaking of lessons, our time is over for today. Look forward to tomorrow, will you not, girl?"
Ellie wiped the clamminess from her forehead. With a swallow, she croaked, "you can bet on it."
"What did I say yesterday to you?" he asked.
"Which part? The failure bit?" Ellie's fingers twitched. "Or that I will catch it."
He was swinging both swords in his hands like a fire dancer would on Earth. "What have I said to you today?"
Cynically, she grimaced. "That I am a shadow," she replied, "and I need to dance like one."
Bil nodded, his thick curls bouncing. "Tomorrow you will catch it, girl. Tomorrow you will dance like a shadow. Don't fail me again, yes?"
Ellie's cheeks flamed red as embarrassment surged. She was torn between purposely catching the sword and throwing it out of the window before herself just to prove to Bil that she couldn't care less about any of Asgard. "Girl," Bil called.
Breath fluttered up Ellie's body, telling her what was coming. It was an indescribable voice which led Ellie into turning and holding out both arms. The wooden sword had already left Bil's thin fingers and was slicing through the air towards her.
Ellie stepped forwards and grabbed it, unangelically and boisterously. It hit her in the chin, but it was still gripped against her body. She clutched it with both hands and barked a laugh of disbelief. Her anger dissipated.
"I caught it!" she cried, "would you get a look at me! A-hah!"
Ellie began turning the sword, swinging it in circles. From the other side of the room, Bil's perplexed figure watched the human. He frowned as she turned around and acted as if the sword was a toy.
"War is not fun, girl," he commented, sliding a finger over the hilt of his own sword. Ellie didn't falter her celebration, only gliding over to the trunk of weapons and placing the wooden item back inside. She shot Bil a wink and a wave.
"See you tomorrow, dancing master," she called and swung open the studded door. As she hurried back to her chambers, she stuck her middle finger up at the wall.
Norse runes were an ancient practice. In Roberts' museum, you'd find displays of beads used by the Vikings — alongside their axes and swords. Mannequins adorned with fur capes held circular shields and their faces were menacingly upturned into cruel grimaces. Children would hide behind their parents and the adults would be startled by the cruelty presented to them. It had become a long-dead culture which Roberts had tainted.
Ellie turned a wooden bead over in her fingers. Grooves were coloured in white, illuminating the rune. She believed it was Raidho; the rune of travel. A carver had made this for her. It was not full of anger like the displays in London.
Even so, Ellie never visited the Norse exhibit in the museum.
Cecelia took the bead from her palm and continued with her braiding. Ellie wished she'd taken more interest in Nordic culture.
Pulling her hair, Cecelia had gathered either side and exposed the scalp with tight plaits. It led into an intricate made of braids. Only able to see her face, Ellie couldn't remember a time when she really looked at her face. There was blueish colouring beneath her eyes from her sleepless nights. A small bruise on the underside of her jaw from where she'd hit herself with her own sword.
Ellie winced as Cecelia's hand movements became strict and strong. She was only doing her job, but Ellie couldn't help the anxiousness which poked at her. The handmaiden was awkward and silent; ever since Odin had scolded Ellie. News must've spread to the servant quarters that an argument had ensued, and Ellie was left blubbering an apology.
Cecelia moved from Ellie's hair and to her face. She picked at the trinket pot on the vanity to press a number of powders onto Ellie's face. The Asgardian make-up was subtle. The dress bought to her was silver with flute sleeves. It was rather plain compared to Frigga's intricate designs, but as a human who was used to wearing drainpipe jeans, the plain dresses were uncomfortably over-the-top. Ellie slipped into the gown and held it to her chest as Cecelia tightened it.
"Is it that big hall with Odin's throne?" Ellie asked as she watched the silk tighten around her waist. There was a set of matching shoes at the foot of her bed; similar to Midgardian kitten heels. How they would feel on the long walk to her destination filled Ellie with dread.
Cecelia shook her head. "The royals have many dinner halls. Every night the princes dine with the Queen Mother and Allfather. More often than not there are numerous guests joining them."
"The letter said Eyaer Hall. Is it far?"
Their eyes met in the mirror. Through the silver gloss of their reflections, Ellie digested Cecelia's mistrust. Her emotions were sealed tightly and guarded in a vault of Nordic faith. Ellie held her handmaiden's gaze, searching for a slither of friendship.
Cecelia dropped her eyes to the top of Ellie's head. "You will be escorted by the Queen Mother. She will arrive shortly."
Curling her fingers over the sides of the chair's arm, the soft velvet cushioned the harsh digging of her nails. A part of her wished it was the palm of her hand she was digging into; only then would the pain take away her anxiety. Instead, Ellie moved her arm forwards and allowed her Rosary to drop out of the sleeve.
It dangled against the wooden frame of the chair, clinking slightly.
Closing her eyes, she envisioned a nun pulling at her hair. She was seven again and sat on a wobbling stool which was worn and creaking after years of use. Beside her was a line of orphans waiting to have their hair combed and pinned into a tight bun. Cascading hair was rare as children were welcomed into the Carmelite Nunneries before joining the orphanage. Still, Ellie had a short mop of curls which frizzed with the horse-hair brush.
"Be still." Sister Bonita would say. "Wriggle anymore and we'll be putting you on the end of tackle."
Ellie withdrew from the memory and opened her eyes. A thankful breath left her lips, but she wound a finger around her Apostle's Creed, nonetheless.
As Cecelia drew the braiding to an end, Ellie skin was pulled tightly at her forehead. The hair was situated down the middle of her shoulders in a firm plank of fishtails intertwined with Dutch weaving. She felt one of the beads and realised it was dyed bone.
Ellie turned to ask Cecelia another question as the door opened. "My Queen," Cecelia gushed immediately, startling Ellie. The bewildered human watched as Frigga strolled inside and smiled fondly. Behind, a servant boy was carrying a silver, ornate box.
He was young by Ellie's standards, but to Asgardians he could've been three hundred years old. The human had much to learn and could only watch with an inquisitive stare. Frigga took the box from her follower and he scarpered out of the door.
Dressed in flowing red, Frigga's extravagant dress slid over the floor for another two feet. With runes sewn into the fabric, Frigga could've adorned a Norse book for all Ellie knew.
Ellie followed the handmaiden's movements and stood up quickly. She lowered her head and copied Cecelia's movements. Despite Ellie's efforts, her royal greeting was hesitant and awkward. Two quaint braids, which Ellie didn't realise Cecelia had made, fell onto either side of her face. They ended with ceramic beads.
"Beautiful work, Cecelia," Frigga approached gently. "Appointing you was a decision well made."
"Your praise is a blessing of the highest regard, your highness." Cecelia ducked her head once more, clasping her hands together. The air rippled with appreciation and gratitude.
Ellie smoothed down the back of her dress as Frigga approached her. The Queen Mother reached a hand towards the human's hair and gracefully trailed a finger over the sculpted beads hanging just out of Ellie's eyeline. Despite the tightness of her hair, Ellie's scalp was free of an ache.
Her eyes fell to the box in Frigga's other hand. With a small creak, Frigga opened the box and removed a dangling piece of jewellery.
Cecelia took a rushed step forward. "My Queen, I am able to apply…"
Frigga interrupted her smoothly. "There is no need, Cecelia," she said. "Ellie is my guest and out of courtesy of the court, I am able to do this once." The piece was an intricate brooch. Two oval pieces were strung together by colourful beads and they acted as clothing fasteners, completing an outfit fit for any guest.
"You are representing a member of Asgard," Frigga informed her as she began to attach one of the ovals on the left-side of Ellie's breastbone. There were knots of bronze on the pieces and they must've been a symbol of Odin. "These will inform our company of your place."
Ellie ran a finger over the cold grooves. "It says everything? About me? Even about the light-elves?"
This amused Queen Frigga. A smile grew wider on her face and she met the bright eyes of the curious human. "No, child," she said lightly. "The symbols speak of Odin's power. By wearing it, you are under his protection. No one will question your presence now." Frigga finished fastening the other piece to Ellie's dress. As Ellie watched her nimble fingers work with the metal, she begged her God for forgiveness. Devoting her body to another God was sinful.
It is my inner soul, which is yours, Heavenly Father. At least her Rosary was hidden away. Imploring her Catholic beliefs was of no use anymore and if she were to remain faithful, it would have to be in silence. My inner voice is yours, Heavenly Father. My mind will never belong to another.
The Queen looked her over and met the human's gaze. There was such intensity in her that it took the Asgardian's breath away. "There is no need to be afraid. I suppose it is similar to a banquet on Midgard."
Leaving Ellie's chambers, the human struggled to remember the last time she had dined with company on Earth. The apartment in London was small, with only enough room for a one-seat table in the corner of her kitchen. Still, she rarely used it and its surface was piled with documents about Plato or Friedrich Nietzsche.
Frigga noticed Ellie's quietness and took her arm into her own. Her voice was tranquil: "speak your mind, Ellie Adams."
"The only banquets I ever went to was when I was a child." In the enormous hall of her orphanage, streams of girls sat munching on bread, soup or porridge. "They weren't in golden castles and they definitely weren't with spit-roasts and beer."
Frigga had seen many Midgardian dinners in her lifetime. However, they had changed drastically and the brief visit to London didn't give enough time discover how. "Tell me about these Midgardian feasts."
Ellie pursed her lips. "Extravagant food was a luxury the Nuns couldn't afford, I suppose. There were hundreds of us girls with hungry stomachs and mouths to feed." Ellie's eyes glazed with memory as she told the Queen of her sunrise breakfasts, which was a wooden bowl of watery oats. The older girls were bully smaller ones for extra portions and so the smallest only shrunk, and the largest got bigger. Lunch was bread and steaming soup whilst dinner offered varieties which made all of the girls giddy with excitement.
"Once, we had bread pudding," Ellie recalled fondly. "It was so hot that we all burned our mouths."
Frigga's eyes widened. "You must've not been able to eat it."
"That made us want more!" Ellie laughed quietly. "The sugar melted in our mouths and it was like eating a cloud of sweetness. It was one of the rare times we were allowed second helpings."
Such a life Ellie remembered. Frigga absorbed the memories rippling from the human; as melancholy as they were. The Queen tightened her arm inside of Ellie's, nearly able to taste the softness of bread pudding. "Your childhood echoes in your mind often, doesn't it?"
Ellie frowned, her smile dropping. "I suppose it does."
"It's not a flaw in you, I assure. So long it has been since we have connected with Midgardians."
With a shrug, Ellie pulled her eyes away from Frigga's. "Well, if I'm stuck here, memories are all I have now."
Rounding a corner, there was a tall set of open doors. Guards stood on either side with long spears in their hands. Friendly commotion emerged from the room. Ellie craned her neck, peering closer at the unfamiliar people inside. She sought strength from God and clenched her fist around the end of her Rosary again.
"You will enter the court first," Frigga said down her ear. "I will enter shortly after and the feast will begin." Ellie whipped her head up, feeling like a child on her first day of school. "Come now, you are here for a reason."
"Right," Ellie breathed, unhooking her arm from Frigga's. "Come on, you fought a bloody wolf, you stupid bint. Begging your pardon, your Highness. I'm talking to myself."
Holding her hands together, Ellie walked between the guardsmen and held her head up. Warmth splayed over her as she entered the small hall. There was a fire in the centre and a circular ensemble of tables, where dozens of seats where situated and occupied by regal guests. A skinned goat rotated on a spit, already dark brown from the flames' licking.
Ellie swallowed, feeling rather ill.
"Presenting Lady Eurelia." Ellie jumped, holding a hand to her chest. Beside her was a bugling man with a scroll in his hands. His face was sunken by chubby cheeks and a neckline which was non-existent. It must've protected his vocal cords. "Seated beside Ser Aelfred and Lord Finbar as requested by the Queen Mother."
With her heart racing inside of her chest, Ellie struggled to control her breathing. She felt sweat on her back. A wooziness came over her as she followed the man's directions to take a seat beside counsellor Aelfred – he wasn't overly fond of Ellie.
The servant pulled the seat out for Ellie. She looked around at the other guests and swallowed as several watched her curiously. Their eyebrows furrowed or raised in confusion. As Loki said, humans reeked of morality.
Yanking her chair back beneath her, it made a clamorous creak. The chatter in the hall rippled close to silence.
"Fantastic of you to bless us with your company, Lady Ellie," Thor vocalised. "Isn't it, brother?"
Loki, who had a goblet half-raised, raised a dark eyebrow. "Indeed. As it is a pleasure to dine with all of our guests this evening."
"Here. Here!" a beefy man cried, lifting his glass.
The same man who presented all of the guests that evening blew into a horn, alerting Ellie to the doors. "Presenting the Allfather and Queen Mother to the Eyaer Hall," he boomed, and the room went quiet. Odin and Frigga entered gracefully, holding one another's hand. With smiles, the guests clapped and raised their goblets again.
Odin picked up a grey horn full of ale. He raised it to the guests and curtly nodded to half a dozen of them. "My friends. Bless you for joining myself and Queen Frigga for a delicious feast."
A woman enamoured: "our Lord's presence!"
"May their light guide us for eternity!" another echoed.
Odin and Frigga took their seats nearly opposite Ellie. They wore matching attire and over Odin's heart was a Norse sigil of power. He leaned on his elbow and began conversing with his wife, motioning to the company in the room and the cooking goat.
A servant poured red wine into Ellie's goblet. She took a sip and couldn't help but take another. On Earth, she adored opening night ceremonies at the museum because of the delicious wine Roberts ordered.
"Pray tell me, did you lose your luggage on the way to the feast?" Aelfred questioned the pot-bellied man on Ellie's other side. Ellie's eyes widened and she nearly choked. With a small cough, she glanced at the pair of them and lowered her goblet quickly. She was sure his name was Lord Finbar, a leader of somewhere far away.
Lord Finbar leaned across her and clinked his goblet against Aelfred's. "Ah-ha. You have always made me feel welcome, Ser."
"You should've complimented me before this meeting. Then I would've assisted you with your attire."
"You may always remove it for me afterwards."
"Behave, Lord Finbar. Your wife has the power of sight, does she not?"
"Indeed! She complains of my sexual adventures rather often."
Aelfred scoffed into his beverage, his eyes dancing with amusement. At least homosexuality wasn't treated in the same manner as it was in medieval society. Lord Finbar turned to Ellie, his thick brow besotted with curiosity. "And who may you be, little Midgardian?"
Frigga assurance had clearly been a lie, or Finbar was just a nosy brute. Ellie's voice faltered as another intervened.
"The daughter of a warrior on Midgard," Aelfred informed Finbar. "It is tradition for the Allfather to praise the offspring of Midgardian men."
"Really? What is your last name? I may have known this fellow."
Red burned Ellie's cheeks. "It's, well," she mumbled, "it's…"
Aelfred picked up a fresh goblet of alcohol, playing off casualty. "Adamson," he informed Finbar. "Yes, he was Adamenor the Valiant. Rather brave and loyal to the Allfather." Lord Finbar frowned again, placing a finger against the lip hidden in the crevices of his beard.
"Adamenor the Valiant…" he repeated. "I may recall such a warrior after a drink or two, perhaps. You must be proud of your heritage, girl."
Ellie nodded, burning under the stare of Aelfred. "Yes, uh, yes! I am so proud of that great-great grandfather of mine. My father enjoyed a feast here as well, I guess it's just my turn."
Lord Finbar took the goblet from Aelfred and lifted it to his mouth. He glugged it loudly and laughed. Ellie was aware of the eyes on her; court members, royal guests and councillors like Aelfred couldn't help but study her. She guessed that only a few knew of her assigned task, but most of them knew she was Midgardian. As Loki had said, it leaked off of her like a fog.
With her cheeks still hot from the stressful interaction with Finbar, Ellie turned to search for the son of Odin. Her eyes found him, half-hidden by the burning goat. Orange flames licked up the sides of the creature, making Loki look as if he were sat in a shadow.
His black attire and raven hair hid him well. Only his pale skin and bronze goblet stood out enough for Ellie to know it was him. Beside him sat a young woman with white hair, startling against her complexion and silver eyes. She was in deep conversation with him as they both sipped from their drinks.
Servants began to carve into the goat. Strips of the animal were laid onto plates along with Asgardian vegetables and sauces. Ellie lost sight of Loki and felt her stomach grumble with hunger.
"Thank you," she said to the servant as he placed her dinner in front of her. Dark brown and cooked well, the goat was soaked with herbs. Ellie cut a piece up alongside a green string-bean and began to eat. With the clanking of cutlery and goblets, Ellie preferred to listen to the socialisation of the feast.
Thor laughed loudly on the other side of Aelfred, banging the table with his drink in joy. Ale splashed the ground and his plate, but no one seemed to care. With his fingers, he picked up a piece of goat and ate it. Juice dribbled down his stubble when he grinned widely. "You are highly enjoyable company, Ragnar," he boasted to a bearded, elderly man. "Tell me another joke. Go on!"
Ragnar was holding a piece of goat. With a greasy finger, he scratched his bead and obliged to the son of Odin. "Did I ever tell you about the liderc who appeared on my doorstep?"
Ellie's strained to listen to the man's story. Liderc's were sexual deviants to had sex with their victims until they died, it was a rather quick topic Tamra went through. Probably to mirror the life expectancy of the willing victims of such a creature. Aelfred's unimpressed face turned sour.
"Bit like pub talk, isn't it?" Ellie said offhandedly, a tiny smile emerging onto her lips.
Aelfred shot her a look. "Brewery chatter is not something light elves engage with."
"Come on. Everyone loves a pint."
"A pint?"
"Or jug," Ellie pointed at the metal drinks dotted along the tables. "Or horn," she snorted, eying the long one which Odin had begun to drink from.
Aelfred remained unconvinced. "Doubtful."
"Are meals always like this?" Ellie tried ask him, plopping a slice of carrot into her mouth.
"Nay," he replied. She blinked, reminding herself that Aelfred was nothing like the British men you'd find in a pub, able to joke about anything and laugh until the sun rose. "These are for the invited; private dinners for private affairs."
"Ah," Ellie said, "I got an invite too."
"Mm. As your presence had made obvious."
The short words belittled Ellie's attempt at light humour, light conversation and light social skills. With a heavy sigh, she focused on her food and found the spices to tickle her tongue and tingle her taste buds for more. The goat was perfectly cooked and juicy as it slipped down her throat.
"When your insides are cold – the walls of a goat's stomach you must eat," Finbar said. "If you are chilly, try it with a smidge of fennel and leak gravy." Ellie's fork stilled and she frowned at him.
"Cold?"
Finbar spoke with a mouth full of food. A piece of meat sloshed around his mouth like laudry in a washing machine. "Great-grandfather told you nothing about using a goat's hide for warmth?" he asked Ellie.
"I think knitted blankets were the popular item." She pushed her plate away, shivering at the thought of Finbar's mushy food.
"Knitted blankets? You need some lessons in Asgardian decorum."
"I mean fashion is individual taste, isn't it? Odin doesn't wear goat hide."
"Odin is the King, girl," Finbar retorted. "He could wear a fanny pack made of testicles and I'd kneel for him."
"Do you think he would?"
"He is the Allfather, what do you believe?"
"Well, I…"
Finbar scoffed and ripped a piece of bread out of the loaf situated in the middle of the table. "For the daughter of a great warrior, you really are a few beads short of a rune."
The Lord looked away from her, finishing the conversation with a cruel quip of his tongue. Ellie peered at Aelfred as he finished his dinner. Some of the guests were departing, wiping their mouths and plates before leaving the hall. Servants began clearing the empty goblets.
Feeling slightly lost, Ellie picked at her thumb nail. Bare and unpolished, the short thing looked tatty. She was unsure whether she was allowed to leave and looked up at Frigga who gave the girl a curt nod. The Queen had been in deep conversation with Odin.
Ellie wished she'd sat closer to someone who was more understanding.
Odin leaned into Frigga's side, drawing her attention away from the Midgardian. "Frigga," he said, "you have your human pet; you are keeping her, training her and now she looks at you like a babe would to its mother."
Frigga looked away, sadness covering her face. She was pained, at war with her husband's emotional inability to understand Ellie. It wasn't unlike Odin to be mistrusting and sharp; he was a King and learned the hard way that the universe wasn't an ethereal dream.
"We both agreed that it is for the best. She is the only one who can awaken the Àlkar which means she will restore Alfheim to its eternal glory. Why do you hate her so?"
There was a heartbeat of silence. "I do not hate her. I find it distasteful that a human is the answer to Freyr's prayer. What if she a false idol? She has been bewitched by Hel, or the wargs have accessed dark magic and she is a vessel of false power."
"I can feel it, my love. She is pure – and strong," Frigga pleaded, pushing a hand against her heart.
"We have been tricked before, Frigga."
Frigga leaned on her elbow, looking deep into the blue sea of her husband's eyes. He remained still beside her, his face illuminated by the fire. "Not everyone is riddled with darkness," Frigga said gently, her voice carried in the warm air. She placed a soft hand over his and bought his aged eyes to meet her. "If she is a vessel of false power, then either way she is able to enter the shrine of the Àlkar and return it. We must treat her with kindness, not hatred. For that will blossom the true monsters which will trick us."
"In the end, only she will be in harm's way."
"Which is why we must train her to protect herself."
"Or die after the quest is completed."
Odin and Frigga were the last to retire, as always. It was expected of the King and Queen to be the last awake and standing. As they sat in their dining chairs, they paused and watched the remaining guests departing. Frigga looked to Ellie. The girl sat staring into the smouldering coals, her face hard, looking deep into the flames.
As if sensing an onlooker, Ellie's eyes snapped to the Queen. Frigga offered her a sad smile to which the girl rose and left the room.
References:
- Liderc – Hungarian folklore – a sexually deviant woman born from a black chicken egg.
- Shadows – in norse mythology, shadows are seen as the soul. It is visible evidence of what exists inside of the body.
- Eyaer - norse word for see and observe.
thank you for reading – please comment so I can improve and make your reading experiences better!