Chapter 2: Pay the Piper
When the warriors stepped foot inside the royal courtyard of Vanaheim, they were instantly greeted. Rekkr, of course, had sent a soldier ahead to warn them that the Asgardians were arriving.
The royal palace of Vanaheim was grandiose enough to tell the tale of the Kings and Queens to which it kept safe, but quite modest as well. The skyscraping turrets and the stone bricks that seemed to stretch on for miles were breathtaking. Yet, its grey colour and a generous amount of shrubbery separating the wings of the castle reminded the Asgardians of Vanaheim's sensible beauty, in contrast to the regal beauty of Asgard.
Though they arrived at such short notice, King Njörd was at the gate of his castle waiting for them, with a silver crown atop his head. He looked pleased to see them.
"Welcome, my friends!" the King exclaimed, opening his arms and grinning from ear to ear. "I hear you have traveled a great distance to speak with me. But I also hear that you have fought well this day. So I implore you to make yourself at home: bathe, rest. We shall speak when you are brand new."
"The matters we come to discuss are-" Loki began, before being cut off by Thor. The younger prince was hit in the shoulder by his elder brother and stumbled to the side in shock.
"We accept your gracious offer, Lord Njörd of Vanaheim, and will use your resources graciously." Looking irritated, Loki bit his tongue so hard he tasted metal. Leave it to Thor to make a quick operation drawn out excessively. He raised his chin in an effort to shake off the embarrassment that was his brother's actions, despite hearing hiccups of laughter erupting from behind him.
Rekkr, who the King had not given a second glance, walked past Njörd and was greeted by his wife, Queen Skadi. Her handmaidens flocked around the warrior, touching his charred armour gingerly.
Rekkr released a cry of anguish when one of the maidens clumsily rest her hand on his shoulder, where the log had landed from the fire. Njörd paid the sound no mind, despite it piquing the interest of the Asgardians. The sound was odd and did not suit the grim looking warrior at all.
"Where do you reckon he's going?" Volstagg murmured to Fandral as Rekkr was pulled out of sight. The King lead them forward to the castle's grand entrance, while Rekkr had been pulled into the garden, swallowed by the underbrush. Even when the warriors three craned their necks to see any sign of where the warrior had gone, they only caught a flicker of fabric from a woman's skirt.
"Somewhere good," Fandral replied, thinking of the beautiful Vanir women and swooning. "How long do you think we'll be staying?"
"Long enough for you to be rejected by at least ten Vanir women," Hogun said, causing Sif to throw back her head and laugh.
At dinner that night, Njörd invited the Asgardians to sit at his secluded table out of respect. Many lords and ladies of Vanaheim sat at tables perpendicular to their own, enjoying the last-second feast the king had granted. A few keeners had already taken the dance floor, spinning their adorned dresses and waltzing to the beat of the most serene and celestial music the warriors had ever heard.
Holding his wife's wrist in one hand and a fork in the other, Njörd waited until his guests were comfortable before imploring their reason for being there.
"My father has sent us to secure this area of Vanaheim," Thor explained between digging into the miraculous meal placed before him. He and his companions were noticeably more relaxed than they would have been in the banquet hall of Asgard, but no one dared to scold them for improper manners. Instead, a servant allowed Volstagg to snatch a flask of beer out of their platter with only a closed lip smile as a protest. "We noticed the fire and offered our services."
"For which we are grateful," Njörd nodded, a never ceasing smile on his round features.
"King Njörd," Prince Loki piped up after a lingering silence fell upon the table. There was something on the Prince's mind that he could not shake. "Would it be improper for me to ask about the warrior who lead us here today?"
Queen Skandi looked up from her meal after solemnly pushing around her food. Her attention was focused on her husband alone as he tossed her a weary glance. Turning to the Asgardian, Njörd struggled to maintain a friendly demeanor. "Ask away, my prince."
Noticing Njörd's hesitance and ignoring it, Loki continued: "I'm curious about the staff they wielded. It was long, looked to be made out of wood, and held obvious magical properties."
A servant came to the table, but Njörd waved him away, enraptured by the words that came out of the Prince's mouth. A spark of annoyance could be seen in the way he altered his collar, not convincing any Asgardian he was comfortable with the topic at hand.
"He used it?" Njörd asked for assurance. When Loki nodded with as much genuineness as he could conjure, the king's eyebrows raised in annoyance. His Queen wriggled out of his firm hold and murmured something in his ear. Although Njörd rolled his shoulders back in discomfort, he nodded to her request. Then, after bowing to her guests, she promptly exited the room.
"Did she say where she was going?" Fandral inquired Sif, whose interest was also caught by the Queen. After shaking her head, Sif turned her head to watch the performers sing instead of interfering with whatever Loki was doing to rile up the King.
Rumours about Skandi's dissatisfaction with her husband entered Fandral's mind, but he was sensible enough to seal his mouth. Hogun, who caught Fandral's expression, pushed his plate away and stood.
"Yes, he did," Loki said, abandoning his food as puzzlement overcame his hunger. His voice was loud enough to distract the table from Hogun's hasty exit. "How did he come across such an object?"
"Well…" Njörd said, twirling the fork in his fingers subconsciously. His eyes flickered to the now much larger crowd of dancers, wishing the Asgardians would join them. "It was an object made for him by the mages deep within the mountains."
"And this warrior went to them to get this staff?" Loki inquired.
"Yes, Rekkr hiked for many days and returned with it," Njörd admitted, not liking where the conversation was headed. "But he never told us what he found, or how it was made."
"Is it possible that I could speak with him?" Prince Loki asked, causing the king to straighten in alarm. "Where is he? Is he here?"
"Yes, where is this warrior you call Rekkr," Thor interjected, all of a sudden keenly listening to his brother's conversation. He wished to greet the warrior who had defeated the Mares with such ease and stole his praise.
"He is … not here," Njörd said, burying his fork into a slice of roast more forcefully than needed. "Rekkr does not indulge us with his presence often. He keeps to himself."
Before Loki or Thor could continue pressing the king, Volstagg interrupted with a hearty laugh. "Dear King, this roast is wonderful! I applaud your chefs."
"Thank you," Njörd grinned and leaped on the opportunity to change the subject. "You should taste our pheasant, it is simply divine." The King beckoned a servant over, and he commanded the boy to bring him a large slice of pheasant, and another flask of ale.
Loki crossed his arms, glaring at the king suspiciously. His brother, who saw his scowl, hit his arm with a jolting amount of strength. Loki's eye twitched with barely controlled indignation.
"Don't fret, brother. We'll find this warrior," Thor promised, placing another forkful of fruit into his mouth. "And I shall challenge the warrior to a duel to see how strong this Rekkr truly is."
"Charming," Loki replied, pursing his lips together and staring at his food in careful concentration.
Missing the beauty of night in this realm, Hogun found himself in the gardens. Welcoming a feeling of peace, he looked at the small insects and animals fluttering from bud to bud.
"Hogun!" Volstagg cried, causing Hogun to flinch, then sigh. "My friend, why did you leave? The food was marvelous …"
When the warriors three were standing side by side in the small pathway, Hogun allowed himself to show an inkling of longing in his expression.
"I have missed it here," Hogun admitted. His companions listened with patient ears. "Asgard is glorious, but Vanaheim is where I belong. After this war is over, I hope to the Norns I may return and see my family."
"Where did you say they were?" Fandral asked.
"South," Hogun replied.
"We can ask to visit before we leave for Asgard," Volstagg offered. "That is, if you'll have me and Fandral come with you."
Hogun shook his head, but placed a hand on Volstagg's broad shoulder. "No, the safety of Sif is more important." His friends nodded. He looked up at the stars. "I pray they stay safe until then."
"We will make sure, my friend." Fandral nodded.
"Someone's here," Volstagg whispered, looking from side to side to find a suitable hiding place for his hulking form. "Should we leave?"
The other warriors offered no input, deciding to watch the two people nearing them with a degree of interest. Something glinted off the taller person's head and the three warriors paled.
"Is that … a crown?" Fandral asked, straightening his back instinctively.
Volstagg repeated his question with a bit more urgency: "Should we leave before they see us?"
"They already have," Hogun stated. "Don't stare. Close your mouth, Fandral."
Complying with Hogun's request, Fandral clenched his jaw and looked up at Volstagg, who had another question on the tip of his tongue.
"That's the queen, isn't it?" Volstagg asked to no one in particular.
"No, it's Thor with a piece of metal on his head," Fandral said.
"Yes," Hogun answered, his voice quiet, prompting the other two to lower theirs.
"Do you remember when she was sent off to marry Njörd?" Volstagg questioned, awe in his tone. "I was just a boy, but I remember the treaty; an Aesir woman and the Vanir king…"
"Yes, yes," Fandral shushed him. "Act natural, you oaf."
As the three warriors stood rigid and as unnatural as physically possible, the two women disregarded their presence. Queen Skandi invited her company to join her on a garden bench with a gentle pat. Obliging quickly, the woman looked into the face of her queen with shining eyes.
"This is hard for you." Such a statement made the women feel that much worse. Of course she was upset! The woman, whose stark blonde hair absorbed the moonlight, swiped a tear from her cheek.
"Yes, Your Majesty," the woman hiccuped, feeling gross in front of Skandi. "Please, please forgive me …"
"You have my forgiveness, of course," the Queen promised, placing a gentle hand on the woman's back. "But you know I cannot reason with her. Your mother is a stubborn woman and she has come knocking at our doors more than once."
"I wish she would speak to me instead of," the woman said, voice breaking as she spoke, "disowning me in such a way. I … I don't know how I can … I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."
As the woman's heart bled out of her chest in the form of tears, the Queen wished she could stay. Alas, the Asgardians were in her house that night, and her husband had a tendency to overstep his boundaries. With one last touch to the woman's cheek, Queen Skandi rose and left without a word.
The blonde woman crumpled after being left alone. She rubbed the heels of her hands over her eyes, then used them to cover her ears. Staring at the ground with a trembling lip, she was too distracted to notice the three men that were approaching.
When Fandral knelt next to the woman, she jerked away in fright at the sudden presence. He looked at her blotchy face, and his heart swelled with pity.
Addressing the fear in her expression, Volstagg held his hands up in surrender. "Easy, Miss. We're not here to harm you. We simply wanted to know if you were alright."
"She's obviously not alright," Fandral scolded, shooting his friend a disapproving look before turning back to the woman.
"No, no," the woman said, wiping her eyes hastily and standing up. "I'm quite alright. Thank you for your concern."
"With all due respect, Miss," Fandral said, his voice dying in his throat after seeing her face properly. When he spoke again, an air of suave had taken the place of sternness. "You're clearly not okay. However, I'd be more than happy to help you with any grievance you might be struggling with…"
Hogun rolled his eyes as Volstagg hit his friend upside the head. Their bickering made the woman nervous, and she began to fiddle with her hair. For a brief moment, Hogun caught a glimpse of her pointed ears.
"Pardon me," Hogun said, staring at the side of her head. Noticing his steady gaze, the woman's hands moved to cover her ears. Her grass-green eyes widened in panic, but he continued with his question regardless. "Are you an elf?"
"I … um," the woman stuttered, her tongue growing large in her mouth. "No. No, I … I'm not? I'm not... Sorry, I'm not."
"I could have sworn I saw …" Hogun said, looking at the woman curiously. Her eyes recalled a memory from the back of his mind. That same surprise and terror were emotions that often entered them …
Since her hands were still covering her ears, he got a clear view of her purple beaded bracelet.
"I know you," Hogun stated.
"Do you?" Fandral asked, disappointment on his face.
"Look at her," Hogun commanded, gesturing to the woman who looking increasingly uncomfortable as the men scrutinized her. "Does she not … remind you of someone?"
"It could be one of your old friends," Fandral pointed out.
"No," Volstagg shook his head, bending forward and squinting at the elf . "I've seen you before. And that thing on your wrist … where did you get it?"
"Do you know these men?" Fandral inquired, jerking his thumb to point at Volstagg.
"What's your name?" Hogun demanded, causing the woman to jump backward as the onslaught of words hit her already overloaded senses. The three men waited for a heartbeat, wondering if she would answer. To be honest, she considered lying, but she had to give up the façade sooner or later.
"My name is Dallea," the woman said. The reactions between the men were extremely delayed.
"I know that name," Volstagg declared, turning to his friends for help. "Where do I know that name from?"
Although Hogun chose wrack his brain in silence, his two companions became louder as they tried to find out how the knew this woman.
"I don't remember going to Alfheim recently," Fandral mused, touching his artfully shaved mustache. "You are from Alfheim, correct?"
Nodding, the woman shuffled backward almost unnoticeably. Snapping his fingers, Volstagg asked if she had been at the Harvest Festival this past year. After shaking her head, the woman dared a broader step back.
"Wait," Fandral said, stretching out his arm and causing her to freeze. Morphing his hand to refer to her directly, an image of a much younger girl overtook his mind. "When you were young, did you visit Asgard?"
"Yes," the woman admitted. Eager eyes imploring her to explain, she obliged reluctantly. "I was Prince Loki's companion for years."
Volstagg's jaw hit the ground as Fandral's eyes bulged. Hogun was the only one who smiled at Dallea.
Unable to contain his shock and disbelief, Fandral drew back and his face twisted in surprise. "What? No."
Dallea pursed her lips awkwardly and looked to the side.
Volstagg moved in for an embrace, effectively scaring the daylights out of her. He already has his arms wrapped around her before she could protest, her arms pinned to her chest. Instead of staying absolutely still she patted his shoulder the best she could with her pinned arm. Giving her a tight squeeze before letting go, Volstagg heard her grunt of pain and apologized. Doubt was written all over Fandral's face as he stepped forward for a hug as well.
After letting go, he examined her once more. "Accept my apologies, Lady Dallea, but my mind is still trying to recognize what my eyes are seeing."
"It's quite alright," Dallea assured, permitting a smile to grace her still reddened face. How strange; just a few moments ago, she wished she was anywhere but there.
"What brings you to Vanaheim?" Hogun inquired, bowing to the woman.
"Oh," Dallea said, caught in the spotlight once more. While rubbing her forearm soothingly, she wracked her mind for a suitable excuse. "I … enjoy the architecture."
"Really?"
Dallea nodded as she rubbed her arm and looked anywhere but at their faces.
Fandral shrugged. "We must tell the others! Dallea, Loki is with us. Imagine his face when he sees that you're so … different."
Swallowing hard, Dallea would rather do anything in the world than that. "Uh, actually, I think I have to-"
"What are we waiting for, then?" Volstagg exclaimed, clapping his hands together so loudly that many small animals scurried away in fear. Dallea bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood. Yet she allowed herself to be guided towards the castle.
She refused to go to each of their rooms and disturb them, so the warriors three promptly split up to gather the Asgardians. Hogun stayed with Dallea in the foyer of the castle, where she had insisted they would be out of the way. In truth, there were more places to escape if this reunion went sour.
"Although I'm flattered, I don't think they will be so excited to see me," Dallea said to Hogun, who shook his head.
"Nonsense, they will be overjoyed to see you again," he insisted. Knowing that arguing would solve nothing, Dallea silently sifted through her turmoiled thoughts and adjusted a shawl placed around her shoulders. What a mistake this will be; the Princes won't even know who she is, and neither will Lady Sif.
The first to return was Volstagg, who brought not only Prince Thor but Sif as well. Dallea turned to greet them with a deep curtsy of respect.
"Well, Volstagg, you were not lying when you said she was different!" Thor joked before reaching out to take hold of Dallea's hand. Kissing her knuckles and giving her a charming smile, Prince Thor's admiration was clear in his stare. Dallea struggled to keep herself composed as a fierce blush attacked her cheeks. "It is wonderful to see you again, Lady Dallea."
How he had remembered her was beyond comprehension, but she returned the compliment quickly. Reluctant to step aside, the Prince was eventually forced to move when Lady Sif pushed forward. She rolled her eyes and offered a hand for Dallea to shake. Dallea's eyes widened at the sight of the Lady before her: her hair! What had happened to her blond hair so similar to her own?
"You can thank Loki for that," Sif explained, pointing at her long black ponytail. Dallea raised her chin and then dropped it slowly, swallowing her confusion for another time. Dallea took her hand and shook it firmly, this time not afraid to meet her gaze.
"Hello," Dallea practically whispered. Sif looked so calm, and Dallea wished she could learn her tricks.
"It is good to see you again, Dally," Sif grinned, inducing a bittersweet taste to enter Dallea's mouth. She couldn't remember the last time someone had called her that.
"You as well," she managed to say. The longer they stood in awkward silence, the more her stomach wanted to leap out of her body in time with her pounding heart. Sif drew her eyebrows together as Dallea wiped the sweat off of her hands, but the elf opted not to look at her instead of saving face.
There wasn't time to ruin the situation further as the creaking of a door and footsteps compelled Dallea to look towards the sound. Fandral walked it, and at his heels was Prince Loki himself. Dallea's throat constricted as all air rushed out of her lungs.
His scan of the room was brief. After all, the others had formed a semi-circle around the only person who he had not travelled to Vanaheim with.
H locked eyes with her and stopped walking. Standing a few feet away, Dallea prayed to the Norns that he would come no closer.
Different was not the word he would have chosen to describe her. The woman in front of him was someone he could only recognize due to her eyes. He remembered the expression of muted terror, but the face itself was … foreign.
She couldn't glean his thoughts from his blank stare, which sent her nerves spiraling once more. With fidgeting hands, she gripped her dress and curtsied for him.
Loki clenched his fists then relaxed them, but the woman was still there. Eventually, he was forced to accept her existence, but he made no move to shake her hand.
"What are you doing in Vanaheim?" he asked. Still not able to tell if his tone was angry or awed, Dallea tried to keep the tremor in her own voice to a minimum.
"I, um," she said, finding herself unable to lie to him. "I live here."
With raised eyebrows, he detected her half lie immediately. He was too good to mistake her stuttering for timidness. "Really? For how long?"
He was definitely more angry than not, and she dropped his gaze because of it. It was understandable, of course. So many years they had been apart, and she didn't remember the last time she sent a letter. "Quite a long time."
Prince Loki looked her over and she adjusted the shawl on her shoulders instinctively. His eyes were drawn to the movement, and he noticed something when the fabric slipped, much to her dismay. The ugly bruise that was forming there encouraged him to take a curious step forward.
"Are you injured?"
"No," she responded too quickly, before squeezing her eyes shut in frustration. "I mean, it was an accident. It's nothing."
Inclining his head, her evasion aroused more suspicion. The closest person to her, Hogun, took a closer look, and his findings caused a disturbed frown to appear on his face.
"Did someone hit you?" Sif demanded, stepping closer and reaching out to steady Dallea.
"No! No, of course not." Dallea stepped away and struggled to find an excuse that would ease them. Giving up with a sigh, she continued: "Something fell on me if you must know, but I'm fine."
Making the mistake of removing her shawl to expose her wound, Dallea quickly looked down at it after Sif's sharp intake of breath. With wide eyes, Dallea saw the grotesque burn mark she hadn't been aware of. Putting it back on herself frantically, the elf shuffled away from the crowd of Asgardians.
"How did you get burned?" Volstagg questioned, still not able to come up with any solutions in his far from sober state. "Was the object on fire?"
"Must have been," Dallea shrugged, damning herself for not wearing a heavier coat. The Asgardians knew something was amiss, and Dallea's heart was beating as if it wanted to break her ribs.
Prince Loki squinted at Dallea as she fought off another onslaught of questions from Sif. Her right shoulder was burned - he could have sworn it was the right shoulder...
When Dallea turned away in exasperation, he noticed a line across her forehead, hidden well by her hair. Yet, it was made unmistakably created by metal. Fading as it was, an onlooker could just make out a swooping indent caused by a helmet.
"You were him," Loki interjected suddenly, astonishment making him shake his head.
"Who?" inquired Dallea, but the panic in her voice said everything. This couldn't be happening. This could not be happening …
"The man at the burning village. The man with the staff," Loki said as the other Asgardians looked as confused as ever. "The one your king calls Rekkr."
"No," Dallea shook her head. "No, you must be mistaken."
And yet the damage was done. No matter how much she shook her head, she couldn't convince them otherwise. They followed Loki's idea with minor hesitance.
"Are you sure, brother?" Thor asked, giving Dallea a second look over, doubt on his face. "She's awfully small."
"So was that warrior," Loki reminded, scoffing in disbelief as he looked to Dallea once more. "You have been busy."
"Is it true?" Sif asked, her eyes shining with delight. Unfortunately, Dallea's eyes couldn't share the joy.
"I," Dallea choked, looking at the ground as if mourning herself. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because-" Dallea began to explain, but she was interrupted by one of Queen Skandi's women charging through the door in search of something. As seven pairs of eyes bore into her, the woman stopped abruptly, surprised to find all of them in one room.
Seemingly dazed for a few seconds, Dallea prompted her to speak with worry in her words:
"Var? Are you alright?"
"Yes," the woman said abruptly, eyes fitting to every person in the room, but ultimately landing on Dallea. "There is a situation in a forest not far from here. It's another fire, and there have been sightings of Mares nearby-"
"Say no more, woman," Thor commanded, lifting a hand to silence her. "Come along, my friends. It is a good thing we stayed after all."
The Asgardian warriors took haste as they leaped across the room in search of their weapons. Unmoving, Dallea watching all but one file out of the room.
Prince Loki's eyes were questioning, and as world-weary as they were, Dallea softened at the sight of them. As shocking as her own persona was, he had grown up well. Flushing when she realized she had been looking over a prince, she made sure to listen carefully as he uttered the words: "Are you coming?"
Swallowing her pride, Dallea managed to give him a ghost of a smile. "We shall soon see."
Though that was no straight answer, the prince's expression lit up as he was proven right. He left her, then, and she watched him leave with nostalgia causing her grin to grow larger. After he was gone, she and Var were alone, and Dallea became solemn once again.
"The King wishes to speak with you," Var said, pity on her face
Taking a deep breath and placing a steadying hand on the woman's shoulder, Dallea swept past her, apprehension in her stride.
