Worship of the Gods

The ancients believed in Fate because they
recognized how hard it is for anyone to change anything.
The pull of past and future is so strong
that the present is crushed by it.
We lie helpless in the force
of patterns inherited and patterns
re-enacted by our own behaviour.
The burden is intolerable.

Jeanette Winterson, The Myth of Atlas and Heracles

Chapter Thirty: A Daughter of the Nine Realms

Under the curious gaze of the Asgardians, the Ljósálfar disappeared from the halls under the orders of Odin the Allfather. They were left to merrily sing the time away before the arm-ring ceremony.

Ellie slipped from the room under Loki's magic, drawing no attention from her peers. Tyr pressed her through a number of thin corridors until they reached an underground system of rooms unknown to the ground-level kingdom. The walls were made of dark stone, carved by hand to form a sinister underworld. Lining the walls were flickering torches and the floor beneath Ellie's feet echoed with their footsteps.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Ellie shook, clutching her skirts tightly. "I don't…"

Tyr shot her an impressed glance. "You're ready for it, lass."

"No, no. When I say: 'I don't think', I mean: I am not ready."

"You got your magic. You got your training. You can do this."

They rounded a corner, entering an armoury. There was a smelting room through another door, spewing heat and flickers of fire. Ellie craned her neck, her eyes landing on a group of muscled Asgardians. They beat their hammers against their anvils, fashioning well-round arm-rings. Ellie subconsciously touched her empty wrist.

"You do this," Tyr clutched a sword in his hand, "you get one of those."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were." Throwing the weapon at her, Ellie caught it roughly and gripped it tight. It was firm in her grasp, both light and strong. The sword had been made for royalty, not a throwaway training session in the lower town.

Tyr watched her a fleeting moment. He was a man of few words. "I'll see you out there. Get strapped together." For a moment, he hesitated, clenching his fists and opening his mouth again. Ellie watched him, deeply lost and needing a hand to pull her out of the darkness threatening to drown her.

But he huffed, waved a hand and disappeared out of the archway. Out of the shadow of his exit, a roar of clapping and cheering echoed. The muffled sound of Odin's voice drifted through followed by Freyr. Ellie chewed her fingernails.

Another voice, softer and kinder than their excitement echoed behind Ellie. She turned, her posture tightening as Frigga drifted into the room with the crowned princes on either side.

"How are we feeling, little bird?" she said, her hand reaching for Ellie's. They held one another tenderly. Ellie realised she was using most of her energy not to shake.

"Well," she said. "I'm well. Are you… all?"

Thor scoffed. He crossed his arms, flashing the steel gauntlets he always bore. "Adequately merry, little Midgardian. My jealously proceeds me. I dearly wish it were I battling in front of the Ljósálfar. To hear the roar of a Light-Elf… with my blood-soaked hammer, robes and soul. To rip the heart of a warg out and hold it aloft as they call for me…"

Frigga raised a hand, silencing him. "Yes, my son," she said. "Let us not dwell on your past winnings." Ellie scarcely heard her. She held a hand to her mouth, feeling sick rising up her throat. A soundless burp surpassed her lips. The Queen turned back to her, squeezing her hand.

"It is nearly time. We must take our places, but we will see you shortly. Nodding, Ellie felt the angelic kiss of the Queen-Mother on her forehead and then the fluttering of her silk robes as they headed out of the room. Thor clamped a hand on her back, knocking her forward. Beside him, Loki silently disappeared after their Mother.

Finally, she was alone. With a whimper, she fell to her knees, pressing her palms to the stone. She closed her eyes and lapsed into a gracious silence. No longer were the cheers of the Ljósálfar echoing through her mind, or the prince's voice, but blissful silence. She was floating on an ocean; with the blue Midgardian sky above her and the heavenly deepness of the sea below.

"Heavenly Father," she said, "I have left your world but carry your love with me. If I am your daughter, then bless me with your strength. Children are of two. I am yours as I am theirs and I worship you as I do, them. Heavenly Father, let me be the daughter of a God this night."

She gripped her mouth tighter, closing her eyes. The real world washed over her. It was no longer world of angelic sea salt and Midgard, but the cold underworld of Asgard.

The raven prince reappeared through the archway, his drifting over her trembling form. "Fuck… fuck…" Ellie shook her head, humming in an attempt to stop herself being sick.

Loki clenched his teeth. He pushed a hand up her back, frightening her enough to jump to her feet. Before she could trip, he grabbed her arm and steadied her. She breathed heavily, staring at him in alarm. "W-what are you doing?" she attempted to move away, but he held her there. The prince closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to her temple. Ellie watched the wrinkle on his forehead deepen.

"Your anxiety will ruin this for you, "he said coolly. "This night, my father will judge us both. My ability to train the untrainable and your reliability in returning the Alkár."

"But I…"

"Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your sweat will become potent any second. Quiet."

Ellie closed her mouth immediately and allowed Loki to continue his work. She felt her mind begin to soften. The headache disappeared and her thoughts became clear.

She was going to prove to Odin that she was more than a Midgardian.

Loki opened his eyes. For a moment, they shimmered with electric blue power. It swam against his irises as tangled snakes before sinking into his frontal lobe and disappearing. When Ellie inhaled, she tasted the ale on his breath. And there were words screaming in her head: you are a child of Yggdrasil. You are power and beauty and light. You are a shadow and you will dance like one.

Ellie nodded proudly, exhaling the final slithers of worry. She smiled slightly, holding onto the back of Loki's hand for a moment. He bowed, closing his eyes and pulled his body away.

Unable to bring herself to watch him go, she stared ahead and continued strapping her armour to herself.

The Ljósálfar roared.

The Torque Ceremony

In the intimate hall, a handful of Ljósálfar, Asgardians and guards joined the warriors in their arm-ring celebration. The air was hot with breath and heartbeats. A crackling fire exhumed a thin, hazy blanket of grey. Loki was mischievously correct; it was intimate.

Ellie stood between Lounn and Naeva, waiting in line for Odin. She rolled her head against her shoulders, feeling the tingle of magic sizzling her insides still. Her body would be sore tomorrow, but it would be a delicious ache. When Odin had raised the barrier, granting her entrance into the arena, she was surprised at the landscape before her. They had built a version of Alfheim's terrain. Across the weaving hills and trees, was the Alkar Tree. It was rather mundanely sized. If it were true, they would've needed a bigger arena.

Ellie was scarcely able to fathom the energy rippling around her; packed with honour, pride and tension.

"In the name of the Allfather, the Protector of the Nine Realms, I present the saviour of the Alkar stone," Odin boomed.

Lounn gently rubbed a hand on her shoulder. They smiled at one another. He had been in the crowd, watching and cheering for her. By the kind invitation of the Queen, the warriors had been invited to attend. She hadn't noticed him at first, or anyone particularly. They were so far up.

Traversing over the uneven ground had been a task in itself. She had clambered up a hill as Thor called for the trial to begin and a pair of oak doors swung open. Out of the darkness, wargs came barrelling out. They were ginormous, their feet trembled the ground; hammering an intangible beat. She swung her sword up, slashing the jaw of the first creature as smooth as butter. It howled, flying back. Unlike her night on the bridge, the creatures weren't as strong.

Or… she was stronger.

Hurtling towards the pack, she sliced and pranced between them. Grunting with each swipe, she ducked and dove out of their snapping jaws. She was a shadow, dancing like one and emerging in the lantern light as an assassin. An animalistic feeling crept over her. She had tightened her jaw, a hiss emerging from between her teeth.

Sprinting towards the tree, she had been ambushed by a warg. Her reactions were quick. She stretched backward, her back arching to miss the creature's teeth as they ghosted her chest. With her sword, she cut a clean line up its throat and splattered blood across her face. Its form crumpled just above her in a heavy heap.

Once she had reached the tree, she came to a shaking halt in front of it. Sweat caked her back and chest. It dribbled blood into her eyes, making them sting so she rubbed them furiously with her gloved finger. The trial had not been that short and sweet. When she turned, looking up at the royal box, her eyes found Loki Odinson's first. He had been sat watching her with his forefinger against his lips. There was no emotion on his face. Thor was on his feet, his arms crossed. The Queen held Odin's arm.

The crowd were taunt and painfully silent. And then there was a rattling from all around the arena. She whipped her gaze to the dozens of oak doors lining the arena walls. They were moving. The bolts rattled; threatening to uncage whatever creature fought within.

And then the doors burst. A hundred wargs shot out with snarls on their faces and hatred in their teeth. Ellie had gasped, stepping back until she hit the tree. It hadn't taken long to come to the decision to discard her sword. She tossed it aside, earning a gasp from the crowd.

The thought on her mind was that she wasn't a shadow. She wasn't a dancer. With fire in her heart and the magic of Asgard swirling a storm within her, she could be a monster who called for the attention of any enemy. A surge of emotion had overcome her. The pounding of paws, the silence of the stadium and her thumping heart.

Exhaling shakily, Ellie closed her eyes. Just her. Only her.

Loki stood up abruptly.

She raised her hand, spreading her fingers wide. In a single beat, Loki and Frigga felt the atmosphere shift. There was a choking moment where they felt the energy being drained from them.

Slamming a fist down, dirt and earth ruptured beneath her. There was a tsunami of debris barrelling across the arena, obliterating the wargs into fine dust.

"You have, uh, blood in your hair," Lounn picked a braid, pulling the crust out of it. "Should I be afraid of you now?"

"Why?"

"You're powerful."

"I have a feeling the Queen was helping me." She checked the progress of the royals, catching Thor's eye as he stood beside his father. "I just felt it consuming me, like I was filling up from the bottom of my feet."

The woman hovered in front of his face with a dark, brooding frown. She reached, holding his scalp and pressing her lips to the sweat and skin of his mouth. Thor smirked, stepping back when the act was done. The next man wished for Frigga. She watched her strain to reach his height, standing up on her toes to kiss his beard; their eyes were dark.

Dark eyes, dark skin, dark hair and mouths. These warriors looked like they had walked out of a shadow with it still clinging to them like disease did to death. Next along was the one with the axe draped over his shoulder, it was wet and dripping death's rain across the stone floor. His hair was caked in pieces of animal meat, the redness dribbled down his cheeks and uneven, marred skin. He was from another training group, one which had hunted beforehand and presented the evening's feast.

"I wish for a blessing from the daughter of the Nine Realms," he said. The room turned to Ellie. She swallowed, looking at Odin for permission. He nodded curtly, glancing At Lord Freyr who stood watching her.

Ellie swallowed. The man had runes plaited in his beard and eyebrows. He was a fierce fighter; having earned every inch of his arm ring, Ellie couldn't deny granting him his wish.

She waited for him to request a press of her lips to the cheek, forehead, to the mouth or eyelid. Each one preferred their blessing on a different place, sacred to what the ceremony meant. Her own kiss would imprint on Ellie until death.

"Kiss me there," he murmured; his jaw was set. Ellie wanted to rip his weapon from him and bury it deep into his skull.

But she did not argue. Touching his shoulder and pulled him down and her lips met the liquid on his face. Pulling away, it left a string of saliva mixed with blood that hit her; blood coated her plump lower lip. Ellie met the hooded gaze of him, he was looking at her mouth and she felt cold. Her gaze lifted to meet Loki Odinson across the room.

And hot. She felt hot all of a sudden, heat pooled around her like a cloud. Remaining unemotional and detached was part of her job, she pushed a hand against his cheek and in the moment placed her mouth on his. The warm blood blossomed against her teeth and tongue, flushed lips burning up like she was allergic.

"Earth and Salt-rock, to bind you to the roots of Yggdrasil and sea of the universe," Odin held the sword to her, his eye intently on her face.

Ellie took the dirt and salt, crunching them together between her teeth. She swallowed it, repulsed by the gritty river they made traversing down her throat.

"I choose the Queen Mother," she said, her hand still in Frigga's. With a bow, she closed her eyes. The Goddess smiled warmly and pressed her lips to the girl's forehead. She held a hand to her cheek and met Ellie's gaze with pride.

With tears in her eyes, Ellie sniffed and held her wrist. She had missed the weight of jewellery on her; its solidity and firmness. She felt whole again and wished for the torque to be similar to a charm bracelet so a cross could dangle against her palm every so often. Still, it was enough.

Her gaze snapped to the Allfather, who gave her a curt nod. She swore there was a smile dancing in his single, all-seeing eye.

One Hour Later

The Throne Room

"Is it beginning to burn thy flesh?" an icy voice said behind her. Ellie jumped, her head snapping to Loki Odinson who appeared at her side in a fluidly jarring instant.

"No," she hissed. In truth, she had left it on top of her sleeve. She enjoyed the sensation of wristwear far too much to have it ruined by any truth. If she didn't look at it, she could pretend it was a rosary bound around her.

"Show me," he said.

"I'm not a circus freak. I'm normal. Look," she held her arm up.

"Normal?"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Not like that. I mean nothing is normal anymore. I mean, I won't indulge you with this Ljósálfar nonsense anymore."

"Indulge me in this, then," he used his finger to guide Ellie's head up. She took notice of the dancing hall for the first time after the ceremony. Having been hidden against the stone wall, she was consumed with her own worries and torments to notice. There were no younglings, or singing. It was a rich, vibrant atmosphere full of gold glitter raining down upon them. Only the torque-holders and grown Ljósálfar were left.

"What's happening? Their bodies are…" she stared as they danced. There was something strangely erotic about how they moved around one another. None of them touching but looping and meeting the curve of each other's movements. A gold brush of wind swept into her hair, sending a shiver up her spine.

"Come," the prince said.

"I…" she shook, "I'm not your slave. You can't command me when I'm… afraid of… this."

"No?" Loki whispered, "fear me, love me, let me rule you and I will be your slave, Eurelia." His fingers gently teased the fragile flesh of her neck, tightening ever so slightly.

The action caused Ellie's lips to part, a weak gasp leaving her. "My Lord…" She stared up at him, consumed by desire and unabridged worship; wanting to tell him she would, she would do anything he pleased. He was her saviour; from mundanity and inferiority.

With a ginger nod, Loki led her into the crowd. He walked backwards, eyes on her and yet knowing where everyone was at the same time. People parted for them, too involved in their own ritual to care.

"Close your eyes," he said.

Eurelia's body moved to the deep hum of a voice. She pushed a hand up against her chest, feeling the drum's vibrations leave goose bumps over her. Doing this on Earth, at a nightclub, would have been ridiculous to her; she wouldn't know how to move. However, her blood seemed to know exactly.

Rolling her head on her shoulders, she moved her ribs up and felt her body release pent up anxiety. Fresh air entered her nose. She felt free. The music became louder. Faster.

Ellie was rolling against the warm air of bodies. It was the most enticing thing she'd ever experienced. Another feeling came to her, one that felt like a hundreds of hands coaxing her very soul. Her eyelids were not black with dark, but with shimmering purples, pinks and greens. Her own being emitted a colour palette of azure.

She opened her eyes and saw blue. A comforting ocean blue where she sank; drunk on salt and ice. Unafraid and a slave to the enticement of Asgard, she dropped her neck back and allowed the blue to sweep over her front.

Until the torque touched her flesh and sizzled like grease on a frying pan.

References: fear me, love me, let me rule you and I will be your slave – a line from Labyrinth. Jareth has my heart. I just could envision Loki being the same; enticing Ellie into listening. He is a trickster afterall.

Comment: LORD WHAT A CHAPTER – SO HEAVY AND FULL OF SOFT-CORE NORSE.