{-Plumeria-}
She didn't like it here. No one liked her; the one who was never supposed to exist to begin with. She didn't even know which one of the women was her mother—they all gave her the same scornful look. If she tried to ask for something, they walked faster, pulling away whatever children they had with them. She learned how to steal because no one gave her anything. They hated her more for it, calling her mean things and treating her like a single touch would kill them.
Her solace came from her dreams. She was always warm there, and she felt a kind of love she never knew at home. But when she woke up, it was right back to the cruel world.
One day, she woke up to the sound of shouting. It kept getting closer and closer, and soon she realized they were coming for her. She tried to hide but they found her anyway.
They carried her off to the old well at the edge of town. She kept looking but there wasn't a single look of pity as they beat her and threw her into the well.
…
"Oh, stop your insufferable whining!" Death's venomous voice only made her cry harder. "You can leave, you know. Go find some other children that died, you can all cry together away from me!"
She wasn't crying because she died. Sure, it was scary and dark, but what she didn't like was that she couldn't go to sleep. She couldn't go to that paradise anymore, couldn't experience that happiness and warmth.
"Mother," the lady who looked more like a younger Death said slowly, "may I show her to one of the communities..?"
"Yes! Do that. Just get her far away from here." Death waved dismissively.
Younger-Death walked over and knelt in front of her. "Hello, little mortal child. I am Princess Eir. I will bring you to a place where you can live out your afterlife."
But she still didn't move.
"Go before I get someone to deal with you, wretch!" Death barked. "Or would you rather spend infinity in the realm after death?"
"Please," Eir whispered urgently. "She is not a woman of empty threats."
She didn't want to do anything. And soon she didn't have to—a familiar face burst into the room.
"Hel!" It was one of the people she saw in her dreams; Lady Freyja. There was a dark thing hovering beside her, but somehow it didn't seem nearly as intimidating as her tone was.
"Freyja," Death returned indifferently. "I thought I told you and your brother that you are never going to get anything from me."
"I don't come seeking álfar. I want that mortal girl—and I'm willing to trade for her."
"What are you offering?" That piqued Death's interest. She sat up a little straighter and made a look that showed that she was listening.
Freyja gestured to the dark thing. "As you might already know, this is a nightmare. A part of their sustenance is feeding off some of the dreams of mortals… but of course, there's a point where they can take too much, making them nice and happy at the expense of the mortal. This nightmare can go down to the mortal realm at my will and kill as many adults as you want. In return, you just have to give me the child. Do we have a deal?"
"I was wrong to think that you were just the little shadow of Freyr," Death remarked. "We have a deal. I'll be happy to work with you again in the future."
…
It wasn't too long afterwards that Freyja was taking her to the dream realm. She went straight to a palace of flowers and vines and was offered the dream nectar. Freyja didn't speak again until she finished it.
"Welcome to your new home, Plumeria," she said softly. "Here, you will always be loved."
At that point, she only remembered that she had been with Death. She didn't remember exactly why she was there or what happened to her, but she knew it had something to do with mortals. She was perfectly content with being blissfully ignorant of whatever it was and made no effort to remember it afterwards.
Technically, Plumeria's duty as an álfar was as the Lewd Dream; she was supposed to give mortals dreams of desire, lust… a manifestation of their will to be loved, or perhaps a show of how far they would go to get what they wanted. She never liked it, though, so Freyja gave her a different role: being the messenger between Ljósálfheimer and Dökkálfheimer. There was some more specific reason for it, but mainly it was so then one or the other wasn't always making the trip over. It was much easier for an álfar to go than for Freyr or Freyja to, after all.
Of course, she seemed to have come into the middle of something she didn't understand. There was all this stuff about this child called the "little dreamer." She simply told herself it wasn't something she needed to understand, her only part of the matter relaying messages between Freyr and Freyja.
…
Eventually she met this little dreamer. The girl could have only been a couple of years old; it sounded like the only reason she was in Dökkálfheimer was because Freyja had offered to watch over her.
Plumeria stared at the girl. "Lady Freyja, is she something special?"
"She means something to all of us," Freyja replied with a smile. "Well, if I can't convince Freyr to make her an álfar first."
"All of us?" she repeated slowly.
"You know of Freyr and I, and I can't erase your memory of Hel… then there's the Trickster and the God of War who also serve general purposes. Fulfilling more specific roles are Askr, Embla, Nifl, and Múspell. One day we will all experience changes because of the prince of peace and little dreamer, assuming they are uninterrupted until their time has come…"
…
Freyja gestured the other dökkálfar closer in an effort to get the two to talk to each other. "Plumeria, this is Triandra. Triandra, say hello."
The dökkálfar just blinked back at Plumeria. It was only after Freyja whispered something to her that she finally said, "Hello, Plumeria."
There was never a point where either of them would say they got along, however much Freyja seemed to hope that they would. They had a mutually beneficial relationship, of course, since Triandra required Plumeria to send messages to Freyr to give to her sister in Ljósálfheimer. But that was virtually the only time they talked to each other, and even then Triandra apparently stopped caring at all.
"Lady Freyja is sending me out again," Plumeria remarked casually when she passed Triandra. "Is there something you would like to tell Peony?"
"I've got nothing to say to her if she's not going to realize what's right in front of her," was Triandra's grumbled response.
((A/N: Like Mirabilis's, this ends several years before the main story, but this time it's closer to five. It's still longer than most chapters in this story, though!
Hel has probably sent a lot of annoying people to "the place after death." There's not a lot that can strike fear into the dead, after all. She probably also wishes no children ever died, not because she actually cares for them but rather because she finds them incredibly annoying.
I kind of like the idea of Eir being similar to a spirit that guides troubled souls to the afterlife, actually… it feels very fitting.))
