She knew what the enslavement ceremony looked like, for she already attended plenty of them. Slavery was a rather common feature of the world of the gods. The person who would lose his or her freedom would be taken to Odin's hall. Would that person was of great value, Odin would preside. If not, one of his son, Thor or Loki would lead the ceremony. The slave would be stripped in front of the crowd and branded. Like a beast... Solweig though. Sex slaves were kept and trained in Asgard but the others who were meant to work in the fields were sent to other kingdoms.
Solweig knew her future would rather resemble the one of an entertainment captive, the highest of all categories that allowed for a slave to be used for sexual practices - not that you needed to belong to that one specific category to be used as one, but there were rules against that. She knew she would be expected to dance and sing as much as she'd be asked to give good heads… She was the one who might be destined to diplomatic delegations whenever kings or queens would visit her master's palace.
She blushed at this thought. As Odin rightly pointed out the other day, the Svartálfar were strongly devoted to Asgard and Odin and his sons often visited King Harald's land. Except for her fear of death, she was aware that this was the main reason for her refusal to be sent to Midgard. Somehow, she was convinced that she would be able to see him again.
Solweig was soaking in the hot water, thoughtful, her chin resting on her folded knees. She knew there was nothing she could do about it but she sometimes contemplated how her life could have been different would she had made other decisions. She could have married Thor, for instance, but what good would it have brought her, when she was longing for nothing else than to be noticed by his brother? She did not exactly recalled when she had fallen in love with Loki, but she remembered when she realised it for the first time. He had been chasing one of her maids, a girl called Ingrid, who had beautiful features and long dark hair. She came from Asgard, her parents rich itinerant traders who moved constantly from one realm to the next and who had sent their only daughter to serve in the palace since they could not fulfil their parental duties. She was no royalty, but Solweig had been jealous of her. She knew they were flirting around, for Loki made no secret of it. He and Thor were anyways constantly hitting on girls and boys, teasing them, from the lowest servant to the next elf princess. Both of them acted in total impunity most of the time, since Odin and Frigga rarely chastised them. One day, as Solweig was around sixteen years old, she had caught her maid sobbing in one corridor, hidden behind a pillar. Solweig had brought her to her apartments, inquiring of the reasons of the girl's sorrow. She had explained that she had shared the bed of prince Loki about a month before, and that she now feared she was with child. Her periods were late. Solweig's rage had been so bright, so sharp that she had slapped the girl across the face with all her power. For a while, she couldn't explain to herself the reasoning behind her gesture. She had mentally incriminated the maid for her loose behaviour. Yet one afternoon, she was walking around Frigga's garden when she saw Loki and one of the kitchen boys kissing, the dark-haired prince pushing the lad against the wall in a possessive manner. Solweig had shed tears that night for she finally understood the reason behind the ache she'd felt in her chest that day.
The maids entered her room and started to wash her, scrubbing her skin before dressing her with one of the long white dresses that were handed over to the future slaves. They braided her hair in a complicated hairstyle, adding fresh flowers Frigga had given them, since the princess was not allowed to possess anything of value any longer.
She glanced once last time at her room when she left. She knew it would be the last time she would ever enter it.
—-
The hall was packed with Asgardians who came to see the dismissal of the princess. What a bunch of vultures, thought Loki, standing next to his brother on the stairs leading to their father's throne. Odin presided the ceremony, Frigga sitting by his side, dignified. She had cried all the tears she could shed in the last days but she wouldn't gift the public a single drop. She knew many had been talking, all those slanderous talks having been reported to her. Hypotheses ran wild, from Solweig's spying on the king, to her being secretly engaged to her own twin brother.
The queen wouldn't have admitted it but Loki was right: Odin was making an example out of her. The exchange of divinities that took place as a truce between the Aesir and the Vanir brought important gods and goddesses to Asgard. Some were truly honoured but a goddess of beauty and fertility was always expendable: she didn't need to master any skill other than the ones gifted to her at birth. However, and even though she was just such a goddess, everyone knew the princess was very dear to the ruling couple. Frigga had felt blessed every single day since Solweig had entered their lives. Sacrificing her was Odin's own way to tame the uprising her brother sought to trigger: I can go that far, nobody is irreplaceable.
Two loud thuds interrupted the hubbub of conversations as the princess appeared at the entrance of the hall. It was the first time she got to enter from where all the others did. She thought bitterly that her place should have been next to the princes, a few steps below Loki, under the throne's stairs. She should have entered Valhalla via the side door, the one that also led to the councillor's room. She took a deep breath, as the two guards that accompanied her started to move forward. She did her best to ignore Loki's presence while she began walking down the aisle, shutting her ears to the people's comments as they watched her pass. He was hard not to notice though, she thought, annoyed. Did he really have to wear that stupid helmet?
Once in front of the stairs, the guards moved backwards, waiting behind her. She bowed to Odin and Frigga, glancing at them coldly but keeping her eyes on the ground as she turned to Thor and Loki. Solweig had considered at length if she could request that both princes would be kept away from the ritual, but she knew this was impossible. Etiquette required them to witness the dethrone of any god and goddess from the pantheon, especially when a new one was meant to be appointed during the same ceremony.
Odin stood up and all went quiet.
Solweig spoke as loud and clearly as she could: "Odin, King of Asgard and of the Nine Realms, God of War and Wisdom and God of the Heavens, I surrender to you"
"Solweig, Goddess of Beauty and Fertility, we are gathered here today to pronounce and witness the formalisation of your thraldom. You have been granted the privilege of retaining your immortality, but you will renounce your freedom, your magic, and all other entitlements your stature of deity had bestowed on you. Do you, Solweig of Fólkvangar, daughter of Freya and Óðr, confirm in front of us all present today, your will to be claimed by your master and to serve him according to the rules of Asgard and the Nine Realms?"
"I do"
Her voice didn't shake but her hands did.
She extended her arms above her head. The two guards leaned forward and disposed of the bracelets, the rings and the necklace she was wearing, placing them on a golden tray that was held by Solweig's first maid. They then shackled two metal pieces on the girls' wrists, depriving her of the seidr, for slaves were not supposed to use magic. Once done, they both placed a hand on the princess' shoulders, forcing her to kneel, before lowering the straps of her dress, revealing her upper body to the entire crowd.
Two other guards arrived, lifting a wooden bench for her to lean on, against which she was pushed forcefully and held. She felt the coldness of the wood against her bare breasts, closing her eyes not to see the smith approaching, a fuming metal stick in hand. Some slaves don't scream, Solweig thought. But she couldn't contain herself that much. The pain was beyond words when the iron met her skin on her left shoulder blade.
Frigga winced, Thor looked away, Odin and Loki stared as her limp body was carried out of the hall.
