Worship of the Gods
You learned to run from what you feel,
and that's why you have nightmares.
To deny is to invite madness.
To accept is to control.
Megan Chance, The Spiritualist
Chapter Twelve: A Different Kind of Human
Ellie shook, clutching the real sword in her hands. She certainly didn't feel like a shadow or a dancing master. A real sword was colder and heavier than anything she'd held before. However, the burn of her muscles told her she was an inch stronger than her first days on Asgard.
Her gaze slid over the weapon. The silver glinted beneath the sun's of Asgard. There were two: Arcas and Sugreeva.
Sugreeva was a volcanic goddess. After her lover caught her affair, he burned so bright and blazed so immenslye that her soul ascended above Midgard and became a celestial, ever-burning star. Arcas was Odin's gift to Frigga on five-hundredth anniversary of their communion.
The most a lover had gifted Ellie was a pack of cigarettes when she tried to quit.
She lowered the sword, dropping the point into the sand. The pommel was plain brass and clunky, hitting her lower arm. It was awkward to handle. She grunted, digging her feet in the sand.
All those weeks of using a wooden sword, she'd never have expected to be trying to swing a steel one. It felt like one of those moments where you think something insane: 'I could stab someone right now' or 'I could throw this glass across the room right now', but rationality returns, and you realise how stupid that would be.
"She's building a sweat just holding it," Aelfred said.
Thor scoffed. "Could you hold a sword when you were a babe?"
"Nay, but she's not a babe."
Ellie pushed a curl back over her ear and heaved the sword up. She panted. Metal was hard to control.
"Enough," Bil said from the side-line.
Thor approached Ellie and took the weapon with ease. He swung it over his shoulder and strolled to the weapon stand. That morning, Ellie was to begin her strength and intensity training. It was the last day of Freyr's visit and God must have been smiling down on Ellie as the Lord of the Light Elves was nowhere to be seen. Only Odin and Frigga sat in stands.
The small training ground was covered in yellow sand. Dummies were spotted throughout. They were cotton covered and packed with hay and gravel to imitate the hardness of a real body. Ellie tugged at her thin tunic, her chest and back already sticky with perspiration.
Bil swaggered towards her, his brilliant moustache flicking off each side of his face.
"You won't be seeing my beauty as often now, girl. Our dancing lessons are far and few."
Ellie straightened, her arms falling limply at her sides. "You're not teaching me how to use a real sword?"
"No," he said and tilted his head. Ellie felt slightly betrayed. "You are a shadow with the light. Now, it is time for you to be a stronghold."
Quite childishly, she said. "I want you to teach me."
Bemused with the human, Thor listened out for her as he pulled several training dummies into the middle of the sandpit. He found Ellie to be a rather funny little thing. Clapping the dust from his hands, he waved Bil's flirty antiques away. "Bil is an agile fellow for agile folk," he shot the dancing master a grin and turned to Ellie. "You are training for war, Midgardian. You'll see your prancing master when you need to."
Ellie scoffed, but watched Bil, with a heavy heart, leave the arena. Her eyes drifted up to the stands, landing on Aelfred as he stood in his obnoxiously long robe and watched her; his arms crossed judgementally. Beside him, sat Odin and Freyr. They were in idle conversation.
Bil training was soothing, slipping her around the kingdom and flowing through the darkness like a street cat.
She couldn't imagine Thor being the same. Unless, it wasn't Thor.
"Are you teaching me now, then?" she asked him.
Thor laughed loudly. "You are joining the ranks of our soldiers. Before you start fluttering about in a panic, they're beginners as well. It's the best place for you."
Thor stood meters from her, whittling two wooden sticks. Ellie only had a moment to realise what he was doing as he threw one of them at her. It flew across a dozen metres of land, nearly hitting Ellie in the face. She caught it with two hands, and they stung slightly. She hissed and clenched each fist.
"I won't start easy, Midgardian," Thor said, taking a slow step sideways. "Time for you to show me what Bil taught you."
Ellie didn't want to fight a prince. He was a member of the royal family and if by some miracle she managed to land a hit, she'd be flogged by the guards or Odin. Ellie ran a hand over the stick, it was smooth and straight; made for practise and pain.
Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Thor was ginormous. His muscles bulged out of his tunic sleeves. The purple veins ran down his skin like rivers of power. She bet that even his pinky finger could flick her off the edge of Asgard. At least Bil was near her height and lithe.
The air around Ellie was overcome palpable tension. Her fingers tightened around the stick and she felt herself shrinking back slightly. She adjusted her stance. Inhaled.
Thor charged with a grunt. He swung the stick above his head and bought it down upon her. Ellie screeched slightly as she met it with her own stick. The power of Thor thrust upon her knocked the breath from her lungs. She fell backwards under the weight and used the stick to roll her body out of its way.
"Stop!" she cried.
Ellie shakily crawled onto her hands and knees. She looked back at Thor who was face to face with the Queen Mother. Frigga's face was thunderous.
"She has the strength of fresh snow. You stomp on her straight away and she will melt."
"I was taught this way. I want her to learn fast…"
"I was not finished." There was silence. Ellie turned her head gingerly and looked at Frigga, her cool eyes were already on her. "Allow the snow to build and when you step onto it, the pressure will not cause it to melt, but enforce a strength that can tear through cities. Begin with the Talons before you butcher her." Frigga took Thor's stick from him with ease. There was a respect between mother and son that Ellie had never seen; one built on trust and complete devotion.
"Up you get, child," the Queen said to her. "The all-father has many matters today."
Many matters? The cheek of it. Perhaps a flogging was what Ellie really needed; a good beating would wake her up. It used to as a child. Ellie got to her feet, gripping the stick. She nodded gratefully at Frigga and spread her feet, crushing her thin pumps into the sand until it sent grinding vibrations up her legs.
Ellie's rosary beads were painful against her palm. She tightened her grip and felt her top light quiver. Almost animalistically, she felt the urge to bare her teeth. Holding her Rosary should've blanketed her in peace. There could be peace in war.
A shivered rippled up her spine.
A caw echoed overhead. Ellie snapped her gaze upwards as an enormous raven swooped through the linen canvas ceiling. Its feather rippled in the sunlight; tinted with blue and magic.
"Well…" Thor began, capturing Ellie's attention. She clenched her teeth and pivoted her stick thrice over. Its swoop and swish caught Thor's ears. He blinked distractedly and edged forwards, less aggressive and hardened than before. He watched her for a moment; his eyes wandering across her feet, legs and arms. Ellie lowered her head and countered his gaze through dark eyelashes.
She darted forwards and swung the weapon, bring it down with a cry. It smacked Thor's counter-attack. Vibrations rattled through her limbs as she turned and whipped it against the prince's right ribs. He jolted sideways, missing it narrowly but Ellie turned again and pendulated her attack upwards.
The tip of the stick brushed into the sand, flying up to meet skin. Ellie aimed for Thor's chin, but missed and caught the edge of his nose. His small stumble was purposeful. With a booming laugh, he held his hand up in surrender and used his other to rub the sore skin.
"Feisty, aren't you?" he said. "Are you happy now, Mother?"
"Seeing you in pain doesn't give me pleasure, my son," was all she offered, but remained seated and observant. In the seat beside her, the raven picked at its left wing. It shuffled and bristled before opening its great, black beak. "We must agree to disagree there, Mother," it said.
Ellie's eyes widened. A hand shot to her mouth. Surely not. Hidden in the caw of a bird was a regal and sharp voice. His voice. Thor's slight distraction must've been him catching onto the presence of his brother.
"A rat would suit you better, Loki," he called.
The raven transformed slowly. Its sleek feathers rippled into a dark leather tunic and the clawed feet morphed into lithe legs. Loki's eyes shifted from the orange of a bird to his own Aesir-blue ones. "Don't make me take Eurelia's place and fight you."
Thor tapped his stick against Ellie's. "Like you do so many times before and like you lose so many times before."
Ellie's racing heart was channelling energy through her still. She glanced between the brothers, thinking deeply about whether it was courageous to attack a distracted opponent. It definitely wasn't.
Ellie twisted the stick and gripped it tightly. With a grunt, she swung and knocked Thor's head upwards. He dropped the stick and stumbled sideways. Lunging forwards, she caught his left leg with a hard swoop. He fell to one knee and clutched his jaw.
Ellie swung at his head again. She gasped as Thor caught the stick with a loud slap. Their eyes met for a brief, adrenaline-fuelled moment. His expression was surprisingly excited. A ripple of furiousness exploded in her chest. She couldn't stand being seen as some-sort of toy for his to enjoy.
Releasing a strangled breath, Ellie took the stick with both hands and hammered a kick into his chest. Her entire body zapped, expelling the strength it took to throw the ginormous Thor back. His stumble to the ground created a billow of sand. He coughed, getting back to his knees.
She allowed Thor time to grab his weapon before she leapt at him. A part of her felt feral, like a jungle cat pouncing around the trees with no goal or menacing quality. She just wanted to dig her fingers in Thor and show him she could do so much more.
Ellie clawed at the girl's hair. She dug her nails into her scalp, pulling and ripping at the skin until her screams were the only thing she could hear. Blood rushed to her ears. She hated her; wanted her to pay for stealing her favourite cotton slippers.
Ellie's arms shook and she was distracted. Thor moved his stick and shoved Ellie in the ribs with the end. She groaned loudly and fell backwards; falling out of her memory.
Clambering to her feet, the sand slipped off her cotton clothes and leather shoes. A dull ache began at the base of her spine. She rolled her shoulders and brushed a hand over her torso, tensing at a spot beneath her lungs.
"Ow," she hissed at Thor through gritted teeth. "That hurt."
They continued to parry for over half an hour. Wooden clangs echoed through the stadium with the odd clap or insult from Loki. Thor's strength rippled through each hit; making Ellie's biceps sore.
Still, this was him holding back.
Thor surprised Ellie by striking her with a ferocious beating. He swung his stick, knocking her out of her hands completely. She stepped back in shock and watched her weapon fly towards royal crowd. Her gaze snapped back in time to scarcely prepare for Thor's stick swinging at her ankle and knocking her flat on her back.
The air was sucked from her lungs.
Choking for a second, Ellie struggled to relax and could only look up at the linen canopy above her. Everywhere was yellow, a dusty, melancholy yellow. Grainy. It was also grainy. The cackling of sand shifted in her ears and hair. Somewhere closeby someone was laughing.
Ellie catholically cursed. She struggled to her feet and pressed her palms into her eyeballs until they ached. "God," she grumbled as she struggled to her feet. The back of her legs ached furiously, and she knew the bruising would be terrible tomorrow; dark purple and angry.
Ellie stood up, brushing herself off. The back of her legs ached furiously, and she knew the bruising would be terrible tomorrow; dark purple and angry.
"Well…" Odin boomed. "Not as abysmal as I predicted a human to be. However, there is much work left for you."
Frigga pressed a loving hand to his arm. "Thank you for your time, Eurelia."
Ellie tilted her head down in respect. She was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Wetness beaded her forehead.
"We wish you safe passage through your training," Frigga continued.
The All-Father met Ellie's gaze. There was a long pause. "Indeed. You have our gratitude."
It was much assumed that Ellie would not be seeing the royal family for some time and if by chance she did, it wouldn't be in the Palace or anything remotely close to the inner sanctuary she had been privileged with staying in.
Although, at the time it didn't feel like much of a privilege, as Ellie followed Cecelia into the lower town, she realised how blind she had been.
The ground was hard cobble and wobbly. Ellie grimaced as she twisted her ankle again into one of the cracks. There was a hustling, bustling world of trading stalls, breweries and houses. It was rather like London living; everyone was doing, seeing or selling. Ellie quite liked it. She craned her neck over the moving crowd, watching a beefy man sell a thick slab of meat to another thick-chested man.
"Joaquim's Fish Soup!" a voice cried nearby.
Another voice called: "Fried Sæhrímnir! Straight from Andhrímnir's kitchen!" The waft of something heavenly meaty rained over Ellie as she walked past. A woman was frying up diced meat in a huge, black pan. She shuffled the pan. Flames erupted beneath it and the meat sizzled loudly.
Ellie's lips parted. Saliva filled her mouth. She attempted to drift from Cecelia and was sharply pulled back.
Cecelia held her arm. "Don't listen to anyone who tells you they have godly goods," she hissed. "They're lying. Trust me."
"Why would they lie? Profit?"
"Yes, but usually it's made with Amanita Muscaria. You want more because it makes you feel good."
Ellie swore she heard that dialect before. It definitely wasn't Old Norse. "Latin?" she asked. "That's Latin, isn't it?"
"Who you think gave you Midgardian's so many of your herbs?" Cecelia said, with almost a sneer. Ellie cast the meat seller one more look and continued after her servant.
They went through several alleyways and appeared in a courtyard. In the middle was a roaring firepit and a hog turning on a spit. The woman controlling it must've been seven feet tall.
Ellie swallowed the growing saliva in her mouth and flickered a nervous gaze over the other buildings. Several soldiers brushed down their horses; eight-legged horses. They were laughing together and paid Ellie no attention as she walked through a small wooden door away from the main building.
The training quarters were half-barn, half-living chambers. Hay littered the floor and there was a rich smell of metal and cooking. A clopping echoed outside.
Ellie clutched her training linens to her chest. She had tightly bundled her few belongings into a thin sack as well as a bar of soap and her rosary which hadn't left her wrist. Human clothing no longer meant much to her. Tight jeans; she did not miss. Although, a pair of fluffy slippers wouldn't have been rejected if she were offered them.
"Do you think I'll get to say goodbye to Lord Freyr?" Ellie asked aloud.
Cecelia continued down the corridor, passing closed chamber doors. "Nay. He left this morning with his children and Elvish company. There's rumour Odin sent a thousand guards with them."
"I'm glad. Glad he wasn't there to see me this morning. That would've set me on edge."
"Odin actually insisted Freyr didn't watch you train."
Ellie's eyes snapped to the back of Cecelia's head, a dark shadow casting over her face. "He didn't need to do me the pleasure."
"It sounds like he did."
With a creak, Cecelia opened a heavy oak door. She beckoned Ellie inside.
It was small. Similar to a box room you'd use as a storage cupboard. A single bed was shoved in the corner with hay stuffing the pillow and blanket. The wooden trunk was sufficient for Ellie's clothes and wash-things. With no words left, Ellie kicked a bit of hay out of the door.
Suddenly, four warriors walked down the corridor. They were laughing and speaking loudly in norse-tongue. As they passed Ellie, she took a step back. Asgardians were huge beings with eyes as penetrating as ice through ones' heart. The bald one cast Ellie a dirty look. "Watch it, veslingr," he snapped. His friend cackled in booming tones.
She gulped, leaning out of her door to watch them. They wore linens like her, but they appeared thrice her size. On their wrists glistened their nordic armbands. Were these the warriors she would be fighting? Each word they spoke, echoed like the clang of a drum.
Stumbling back, Ellie exhaled a long, shaky breath.
"You're quiet." Cecelia cracked open the trunk. "Bed not big enough?"
Ellie could've burst into tears. "You think I'm quiet over the bed being small?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance. "You're right. It can't be the decked out, pimped up warriors I'm training with. Ones who've trained for centuries. I did an hour of stretches with Tamra yesterday and I still can't feel my legs."
Cecelia clicked her tongue, looking away from the straw sleeping area. "They haven't trained for centuries," she said. "Not every Asgardian trains from birth."
"What about their armbands?" Ellie asked, worry diluting.
"Armbands are for Asgardian spirit. Being a member of this world is more unifying than war. Asgardians train even when they are old because we must protect the beauty of us from the rest of the universe." Cecelia lifted her flute sleeve, exposing her silver band. It looked like vines looping around one another, holding her wrist in a graceful manner.
The handmaiden rubbed a hand over the bracelet, a smile on her lips. "I was four-hundred-and-two when I received mine."
Ellie struggled to control the urge to touch Cecelia's band. She chewed the inside of her cheek instead and began folding her tunics into the trunk. "It's very beautiful, Cecelia. You must be proud."
"Yes," she murmured. "I'm proud of Odin."
Ellie's gaze flickered to Cecelia's face. She felt guilt turning her stomach. "I'm sorry," Ellie murmured. "What I said to you about… Midgardian Gods and Odin was cruel. It was insensitive. I'm sorry."
Cecelia met her brown eyes and didn't lose her smile. She held her wrist. "I shouldn't have treated you with such disdain. Our cultures are vastly different. I should've been more understanding."
"No. No, I told you that Odin didn't matter to me at all. I'm truly sorry," Ellie insisted, reaching a hand to hold Cecelia's. "You're right. Odin is a great leader."
Ellie lay in bed, listening to the dull commotion of Asgard's lower town.
It was much louder in the training quarters. People were constantly getting up or settling down. There must have been a hundred rooms down her corridor, and everything seemed to creak.
Heat swelled behind her eyes and when she blinked, a tear slipped out, falling down her cheek. Her university dorm had made noise just like this; full of laughter and shouting. At least then she could've walked into the shared kitchen and joined in.
Ellie covered her mouth. She couldn't cry. Not here. She had to calm down. She pleaded for her throat to relax and her jaw to unclench. Her palm became painful against her front teeth.
All she wanted was the laugh like the warriors, drink like them and be a part of… a family?
Ellie's hands began to shake, tears came faster, and she was suffocating. Morning would come soon and then she could distract herself. The princes would barely recognise her after several weeks of this – the king would show form of emotion beyond distain.
A strangled sound escaped her throat. Ellie turned over quickly, making the bed springs squeal for a moment. Enveloped in embarrassment and a downward spiral of emotional control, she shoved her face into her pillow. She cursed Asgardian hearing.
References:
Sugreeva: son of the sun God Surya.
Arcas: son of Zeus and Antiope.
Sæhrímnir – a boar-type creature killed and eaten by the Aesir Gods.
Andhrímnir – the cook of the gods and killer of the Sæhrímnir.
Amanita Muscaria – a fly agaric mushroom which is POISONOUS. DO NOT EAT.
Thank you for your comments, favourites and follows. I am honoured and so very grateful.