Disclaimer: Every recognisable character, setting, backstory and/or themes belong to their respective owners, Marvel Comics and Michael Hirst. I am in no way associated or representative of the estates of these fictions and any copyright infringement is unintended.
Pre-read/Author's Note: Hello and welcome back! I am excited to reveal this new chapter for you. Thanks to everyone who is coming back to this story and thank you to the comments I have received so far. I'm also grateful for your patience and understanding. Without further ado.
Narration: storms
Thoughts: storms
Speech: "storms"
Chapter 3: Tropical Storm
PULLING back the cover of the entry, Yrsa grabbed Ororo's hand and pushed her through the door. Instantly, the windrider was met with a stillness, as her eyes adapted to the dark and cool room. The smell assaulted her first, a strong mix of herbs and sage, with smoke wafting from a smouldering brazier in the far-left corner of the room. Ororo realised the dark was due to there being no windows in the hut and she had to remind herself to breathe and keep calm. She hated small spaces! Her psionic energy reacted to her mounting distress and sizzled in the air around her.
Tensed and uncertain, she scanned the room. Ororo checked over her shoulder and noted that Yrsa had not followed her in. Strange, she would not have left me alone here, right? But as Ororo started for the door, her senses alerted her to another person's presence. The windrider pivoted again and before her stood a woman, materialised out of the darkness.
Ororo stared as the woman moved her gaze to the cooling brazier in the corner and walked over to reignite the flames. As the fire raged back to life, the hut was illuminated and revealed a circular room, filled with hardy and aged furniture that was sparse, clutter and random items over every surface. Many of the items the former goddess could not recognise.
Goddess indeed. A resonant voice reverberated through her mind, startling Ororo out of her perusing the hut and she whipped her head around to the other woman. The older woman had turned back to look at the mutant with an intensity that seared her skin.
That was not Charles' voice at all. Ororo looked back at the woman. Hello? Was that you in my mind? A grin split across the woman's face, stretching the dark ink that sprawled across her face.
It has been a long time since I have met someone touched so intimately by the Aesir. The unknown woman's gravelly voiced roiled through the mutant's mind, gravels over sand.
"You are welcome to these lands, time traveller. The Nornir spin your fate as we speak." Ororo's brow furrowed as she realised this woman was speaking to her, aloud, in English. The windrider felt unsettled, she'd felt so since entering this cabin. She studied the hut's occupant briefly. Short, with pale skin that appeared translucent in the firelight. But almost every inch was covered in tattoos, spilling like grey henna down her bare arms, across her chest and collarbones, across her brow and under her eyes. Everywhere, like she had been born with the marks.
Her eyes and hair were pitch and appeared to absorb light, and she was dressed in dark furs and cloth, wrapped around her like a shroud. A simple wooden headpiece wove itself over the crown of her hair and down her forehead. Trinkets and wooden symbols dangled from her ears and neck. Like a wraith, she stands before me. I sense a deep power, maybe she's a mutant?
As if hearing her, the woman grinned and stepped forward. "I am Valdis, storm woman. Seer, by your tongue, volva by the tongue of these lands. I have been given sight by the gods, Freyja blesses my eyes and mind". She intoned as she raised her hand, palm up, towards Ororo. "Lick", Valdis commanded.
Ororo was shaking her head before she knew, still not understanding what was happening. But the woman, Valdis, did not back down or lower her hand. She stared, expectant. Ororo then felt something tug at her energy, pulling at her core and she found herself lowering her head. The mutant rolled back the ragged sleeves of the seer and hastily licked her palm.
The seer grabbed Ororo's face and lifted it from her bent position, lifting so that she could meet the seer's eyes. "You have come a long way, yes? Across seas and time, to be here?". Letting go of her chin, Valdis stalked to the back of her hut and bustled amongst the various bottles and herbs along shelves.
"You have questions" Valdis stated. She gestured to the low table in the room and Ororo took the invitation to sit. She had been thrown off guard by the whole encounter but she felt excitement now. Here seemed to be someone who could help the windrider understand her situation. How she got here and a way back to her people. "You know about how I have arrived here? Why am I here?" Ororo asked desperately. "How do I return home?"
"All you need know is that this is not your time, your path is muddled and unclear. Those with powers, blessed by the gods such as you, do not walk amongst the people of Midgard anymore. You must be careful." The seer explained and Ororo felt disheartened. She watched as Valdis picked a clay bottle and handed it over. "This is for your sleepless nights. The draumr you experience are messages, but without clarity; they remain shrouded and fearful", the seer described.
"The gods will guide you, young one, through others and your dreams. An outsider you are, but your fate weaves itself amongst our people, intertwined and inextricable. The king will fall before the goddess and rise anew." Valdis intoned.
"Please! I have no ill will towards your people, but I must return to my home, my friends. I do not belong here…" Ororo gazed tearfully at the seer. But she could not see anything reflected in Valdis' eyes; no concern, just a steadiness and resolve.
"Your presence here is commanded by the Aesir, windrider. Their will cannot be undone" Valdis stalked towards her and Ororo rose to her full height in response. This woman cannot be serious! Why would she prevent me from going home? The snow haired woman seethed, her thoughts turned dark and the small room dropped in temperature. How dare she?!
"I do not want to hurt you, but you can't keep me here," the mutant cried "my powers make me a danger to most humans. If anyone were to find out…" Ororo's unsaid warning hung in the air between the two women, a knife's edge to her words and meaning.
A stillness, a moment in time, and then Valdis smiled. A crack across her stone face, her smile rang genuine and true. "You will find the peoples of this time more accepting of that which is different, reverent of power such as yours. Use it wisely, and you may find your efforts paid in kind." The words were said without much inflection but the steadiness of the volva's gaze pierced through Storm's turbulent mind. The former goddess sighed, she realised she would not get any more answers and she felt herself deflate.
The weather witch looked inwards for a few moments, collecting herself and drew to her full height again. Marshalling a confidence from within, Storm thanked the woman for her remedy. As she gazed at the seer, Valdis smiled and lifted her hand silently. Ororo bowed over the hand and licked, the payment for this meeting it seemed. The windrider rushed to the doorway and pushed her way outside. Taking a breath of the fresher air, her mind cleared of its cobwebs and Ororo glanced up as Kaddegat and its noises pressed around her, the world around her unpausing itself.
Yrsa appeared as if by magic, summoned, and glanced at her with a solemn look. Ororo went to speak, forgetting that no-one could understand her but the sorceress. Yrsa shook her head, "Þú mátt ekki segja mér hvað þú hefur séð eða verið sagt, Ororo. Það er eingöngu fyrir eyru þín og augu." Ororo nodded as if she understood, the shaking of Yrsa's dark head enough to convey that she should not speak of what she heard.
As she followed her companion through the town, heading eastwards, Ororo sought to clear her mind of the unsettling encounter by looking at her surroundings. She was impressed by the sheer amount of noise and bustle around Kaddegat. If she did not know better, the windrider would think herself back in New York. Feeling the press of people around her, their conversations and laughter filtering through her senses.
Ororo's eye was caught by a food stall to her left, manned by a woman and teenage boy, her son from his look. She walked closer, drawn by the familiar smell. The woman peered at Ororo at first but quickly smiled and gestured her closer. Ororo espied the metal grill that held several meats, what smelled like beef and mutton laid out behind the shop vendors. The woman placed several pieces that were fresh off the heat on a cloth and handed it to Ororo, to taste. The former goddess refused, touched by the kindness but unable to pay.
But Yrsa stepped forward and handed over small pieces of silver. Ororo gingerly took the meat and offered her thanks. As her and Yrsa consumed the food, Ororo saw the young man staring straight at her. The mutant looked up to make eye contact but the young boy turned away, embarrassed it seemed from being caught.
"Thank you", Ororo smiled at the vendor and turned to Yrsa, who licked the grease from her fingers and raised her brow. The windrider lifted her meat up, gesturing towards the meat in question. Ororo did this several times before Yrsa understood. "Kjöt" she stated in her clear voice. The former goddess repeated the sound to herself several times and then aloud once for Yrsa. The sound did not sit entirely right in her mouth, her Kenyan American accent extended the "y" sound in the middle strangely. Still, Yrsa grinned in response, humoured.
Ororo's questioning appeared to have awakened something in the foreign woman and she took it as leave to start teaching Ororo, pointing rapidly to objects and waiting for Ororo to repeat the words back to her before moving on. The two women drifted through the marketplace as the lesson continued, Ororo finding joy in the simple pleasure of learning a new language.
It had been similar when she had first landed in New York beside Charles. The noise and bustle of the city's inhabitants reflected the thrum of life that ran through Cairo at all hours, but the English language grated harshly on her ears then. Thankfully, Charles and later Jean had helped her pick up words and phrases quickly; discovering the novel world around her whilst having a roof over her head and food in her belly, Ororo had been content. More so than any other time in her life, even when she ruled the plains of Kenya.
The windrider thought back her early days at the X-Mansion; when she was surrounded by people who liked her and encouraged her to be all she could. It was neither the disdain and sneering of the elite of Egypt, nor the awe and petrified distance of the people of her tribe. A love and regard that was whole and she returned tenfold; the X-Men were her home.
As she thought this, tears flooded to her eyes before she could catch herself. Lost in her maudlin thoughts, the weather witch felt sharp grief swell up in her soul; and the sky darkened in response. She was vaguely aware that Yrsa had stopped talking and could feel her gaze, but Ororo did not turn to her. She allowed herself, for the first time perhaps, to mourn her situation. And the skies responded to the distress of its mistress, clouds gathered and a faint drizzle blanketed the people of Kaddegat.
Storm wept silently, for her lost friends and family, knowing that it could be eons before she saw them again. All along Yrsa walked beside her, a sentinel and witness to her grief.
An afternoon later, spent in the markets with Yrsa, buying a few tunics and what looked like leggings, but Ororo stopped her at purchasing new boots. She had a perfectly good pair from her uniform and Yrsa had spent enough money on her, in Ororo's estimation. The townspeople, stopped in their duties often to glance at the strange woman in their midst. The windrider had become slightly immune, but she understood enough to know that gossip and talk would ring throughout Kaddegat about the new arrival.
She had seen people who had her skin colour and even darker at the markets, surprisingly. They looked like merchants, selling wares and fares at the top of their voices. It seemed that traders from all over the world had descended on Kaddegat, China, Africa and even Arabia. Perfumes, spices and jewellery, with cloths of yellow, red and blues, a vivid collage against the backdrop of mud and wooden shacks. Storm found the sights jarring and invocative and she wanted to explore further as she became more familiar with the town.
Yrsa was an attentive guide, considering they couldn't communicate well. The former goddess felt her sadness melt away under the blaze of Yrsa's quiet and intense enthusiasm; clearly she was proud of her people and culture and wanted to show her guest all of it.
But Ororo's injuries flared up again, warning her that they had been walking for hours now. Ororo also knew herself enough to know she wanted to take to the skies; her skin was buzzing as her body adjusted to the climate in Kaddegat but felt the restriction of so many eyes on her presently. Maybe she could get away?
The mutant turned to her companion and caught her attention. Yrsa glanced at her and nodded her head in acknowledgment. Ororo pointed back up to the forest, back up the hill towards Yrsa's home and said, "I am tired. Can we go back?". Yrsa's dark head tilted at Ororo's voice, as it had all afternoon whenever the Kenyan spoke, as if puzzled by her accent. But the hunter's sharp ears appeared to pick up the question, saw the direction Ororo was pointing in and nodded.
The ladies ambled back up and Ororo noticed that a few town inhabitants waved at Yrsa or approached, discussing things in hushed tones. Whilst Yrsa caught up with her fellow villagers, Ororo reached out to the skies above and swirled the energy above their heads. Her body felt full of her psionic power and rejoiced at the release; like tensing and exercising a disused muscle. The temperature of the cool, Northern evening rose slightly and soft gusts of winds played amongst the stands and people, like children playing in the sun.
As her soul and energy ascended, the weather wrapped around her, like a blanket on a warm night. As the former goddess felt herself swept up, a presence made itself known: a faint nudge back, a response to a question. Ororo, puzzled, continued to push against this energy – she felt no malice from this energy but it pressed insistently against her, melding itself against her power. Beyond that power lay an emptiness, a great chasm in which Ororo felt she would fall into and never find herself. Behind that chasm was an awareness, something peering at her and testing her mettle. Frightened, she yanked herself back into her physical body, the breath in her lungs rushed from her body. As the power beneath her skin dissipated, her eyes returned to normal and Ororo glanced around her to see Yrsa and the lady she was talking to her staring. Askance, Ororo smiled tremulously to try and ease their worry.
The unknown woman turned back slowly to Yrsa and mumbled a goodbye, then hurried into the crowd. Yrsa's face was carefully stoic, but Ororo could read a panic in her honeyed depths. The hunter grabbed Ororo's arm firmly and pulled her towards their homestead.
Translations:
The Aesir – this term refers to the primary faction or group of gods that comprise Norse mythology. Sources seem to indicate that the Aesir were adept in combat and war, whereas their contemporaries, the Vanir, were versed in magic, fertility, and farming. This delineation isn't set in stone and in my research, it appears the title Aesir can be used as an umbrella term for the entire pantheon of gods in Norse mythology. Examples of gods that were classed Aesir: Odin, Frigg, Baldr and Thor.
The Nornir – refers to a faction of deities/giantesses within Norse mythology who shaped the fate for all humans, it was believed that praying or beseeching these goddesses could alter the fate of anyone. The three main Norn (sing.) g+0uarded and tended to Yggdrasil.
Volva - a term used loosely in early Germanic texts to mean seeress or witch. It translates to "staff bearer" and appears to be a reference to the use of wands to aid clairvoyance and channel prophesies, these women performed roles as basic as healing wounds and ailments, and as important as advising jarls and kings, asked to turn the tides of harvest yields and battles. They encompassed an important role religiously, societally and politically within many early Germanic societies.
Þú mátt ekki segja mér hvað þú hefur séð eða verið sagt, Ororo. Það er eingöngu fyrir eyru þín og augu. – "You must not tell me what you have seen or been told, Ororo. It is for your ears and eyes only."
And we get to the end of chapter 3! A big thank you to all those who have read so far, your comments and reviews are water to my withered soul. Hope to see you next time! We have one more chapter before our Viking maverick shows up.
