Inia stands at the edge of the field, the aroma of fluorescent vegetation pleasantly perfuming the air. The wind's whispers loiter the forest encompassing the clearing as breezes breathe and rustle the substantial canopy above. In the corner of her sight, she is aware of the dark prince abreast of her also gazing unto the otherworldly vibrancy of the breathtaking landscape set on the rural outskirts of Asgard City. She confesses, "Your realm is glorious, though I cannot choose a word to properly express how much I appreciate such splendor. You are acquainted with this place."
A look of pleasure and astonishment seeps into his eyes so upon catching one another's gaze, a smirk reactively upturns a corner of his mouth. "Verily. Odin would take Thor and I here as children to teach us the art of war. As I strayed from tradition, Frigga brought me here once a week as her apprentice. I see Nerthus nowhere in sight. Why bring us here?"
Wonderful. I lost the princess and for all I know, she is fornicating with Thor as we sit here lollygagging in the forest alike an elf in heat. Norns, I am a horrible guardian. And then I must deal with Loki.
An audible sigh exasperates her. "Tis difficult to explain, much more for another who is in no relation with the Norn Fates."
"Explain it as a soliloquy, as if you were pondering aloud. I am far more perceptive than I am fabled to be, Inia. Take time with your thoughts, we shall collect your charge."
Uneasy with the picture of him leaning coolly against a tree trunk awaiting her answer, shadowed by the brush of gold-stemmed leaves draping downward leaving her to see peridot shamelessly studying her, she senses no agents of chaos bustling the god of mischief, currently, so she relaxes and takes her resting stance of uncovered arms knitting below her armored bust.
Lying is out of the question. The basics should appease him and whatever else he enquires. That is if he knows what to query at all since a select few throughout the realms may comprehend the potential of a harbinger in its fullest. Yes, this is good. Diplomacy is key, nothing personal.
"Are you familiar with the tale of the Norn Sisters? How they came together to save their loved ones, perished at the hands of their fate, that the tears of the universe's mother who is Yggdrasil herself wept tears of life and love that rebirthed the three daughters of past, present, and future so they may crown the canopy of the realms' life tree?"
Loki nods positively.
"Good, then we shall begin there. … A select few throughout the Nine know of this tale, including myself and soon you. My heritage spans far and vast; my Mother once said that a child of fate arrives once every one-hundred millennia to share the visions of the three sisters in premonitions, to uphold peace within the universe in times of crisis, war, and great sorrow. I know not if I believe these things myself, simply because tis rather… extreme. But once again, anything is possible and it would be foolish of me to not at least indulge the tale." Unconsciously taking a deep breath and focusing on the opalescent bird floundering on a branch and rustling sheer feathers above her, she speaks as if to the blue-tailed rodent clutching an acorn accompanies the creature of flight. "Gaea claims Njord spoke of a harbinger in the bloodline, but that exchange was unfortunately his last so she knew not what he meant for many centuries. Then I was conceived." Sparing mischief a look to make sure she still captures his ears, Inia continues once he nods, noticing his mask of boredom melting away as interest sparks and flares.
That, his ever-growing interest, she is not sure what to make of. No one has ever taken to her so quickly rather they know so or not despite being a priestess and speaking publically to the commonwealth conducting rituals of blessings and nuptials. Judging by the peculiar show of openness accentuating his features whilst he jests and teases her has not escaped her notice. He favors her. He genuinely favors her; she can sense the truth in his expressions rather he realizes this or not. Again, she knows not what to make of it. Nervousness? Fright? Anxiety? Excitement? No. Sorrow? Yes. Mourning? Definitely grief.
"Worlds away, Frigga had a dream of the Norns claiming my bones with their rune craft. Yes, I was born a harbinger and carry the blood of the Norn Sisters in my veins." Inia shakes her head, disbelievingly. "Odin and Gaea conversed and confirmed this, both witnessing a premonition I had in the womb upon my Mother's touch. I could not tell you what the premonition was, I cannot remember and they refuse to tell me."
"I see. Frigga has always seen you as a daughter."
"Yes, she has been a great strength for me though I fear am a constant burden to those amongst me."
Envy, anger, annoyance, and astonishment seethes akin one of Muspelheim's vegetative inferno geysers within his exclaim. "Why? You prevent wars in brewing realms, warn many of natural disasters, and protect those who cannot protect themselves! You are a savior! The hero-worship that follows you is a pagan of your achievements! You have shrines erected in your name by civilizations of those you have yet to meet, so much so tis practically a cult! You are accepted, so easily trusted and never deceived thus never endangered! What have you to burden?"
Resisting the urge to scoff at the accusation of a perfection she loathes and to roll her eyes at the implication that she relishes the attention, she squares her shoulders. "I refuse to fuel that show of hostility. Worry not, I forgive your brash ignorance."
"Fine. Please enlighten me, Harbinger." In the shade of vegetation, he smolders her greatly in disgruntlement.
"I do not have a hand of control in foresight. Yes, I wield it but tis a living craft in its own right. My nights are plagued by randomized sequences of the future I have yet to distinguish. I see things but I never fully understand what importance they hold or when they shall occur. Any of them may happen within the hour or within the next century." Solemnly, she blinks her sight fro the prince to examine the intricate accents of rose gold glistening her over-the-knee-boots rather intensely. The toe of her boots draws lines in the clearing of dirt haphazardly, knowing she cannot glint at Loki without baring the true weight of her emotions on her face. Strangely, she cares not how her tone sounds however disgusted, angry, or saddened it is. "I am doomed to be forever awaiting things to parallel, trapped in an infinite puzzle of circumstance and misconceptions. No one can help me in this, tis my burden alone and is why I chose to become Vanaheimr's priestess, why sainthood is my salvation. The mere reason Frigga and Odin were able to see as I did is because of our native blood to the sedir realm, our kinship of understanding the Norns, and Odin because he is soul-marked to her." She shrugs dejectedly, continuing her monologue and digging clumps of sparkly dirt with her heel carelessly. "Many see my choice of virtue as selfish and throughout my centuries, many have made effort and demand to have Freyr betroth me in the hope of more harbingers, but he countered by questioning the sedir's potency as it travels the bloodlines. Freyja and our healers believe I had a premonition in the womb so enthralling it bestowed so much distress that I nearly slain my Mother and I, reasoning my cesarean birth. Freyr did not wish me the same distress of motherhood that was forced upon my Mother, believing nuptials and heirs are not of importance." For the first time since she started her explanation, a fond smile curves her lips. "I believe it would suit Idunn more beautifully anyway, she enjoys the prospect of promiscuity interweaving tradition and copes with attention better than I ever shall. Earlier when I touched the dirt and saw this meadow, I had to reach deep within myself and feel for the Norns. I had to request for aide and permission to wield it. You see, when I am in my most vulnerable form and open to infinite possibilities, the foresight awakes in my sleep and flashes countless moments of life and death all in a matter of seconds. Like a dream. When I am conscious and aware, tis rare the Norns bestow me a premonition and if they do, tis swift and powerful alike the waves of Aegis crashing upon pink sands. No matter when I beckon the harbinger, tis always a conversation of respect between mind and soul and if I need to source someone quickly, I find tis easier to associate with a physical attachment of the individual. For instance, Nerthus has a forte for geo-psionic Vanir sedir and connecting my flesh to the dirt presented me a glimpse of her. I saw her here. … Gaea is convinced I am some sort of rebirth of the Norns Sisters themselves since I can see each facet of time unlike the Imperial Queen who may only see a premonition of an individual's past through tele-psionic enchantment and physical touch. Honestly, I believe they have become a bit overeager in the proposal of a Norn Child and have allowed their imaginations to overtake their sense of reality and truth. I certainly feel not half as glorious as they exaggerate me to be." She sighs, seeking silence after speaking so long about her ultimate downfall. "I know not if you understand this, but I cannot think of another way to explain my oddities."
"You speak as if you wish not to wield the Norns."
Inia replies not feeling disappointment nor gladness, "Even if I do not, I have not a choice. My fate was sealed before I was cut from my Mother's womb. In blackness surrounded orbs of light none shall hear my cry of despair in the void because I already have perished." Only when Loki stammers uncharacteristically over his words, unmistakably disturbed and shaken, does she dismiss her etches in the dirt to reach him at the tree's base.
"… You have…? I did not – oh. … That is horrible. I grieve for you."
Astonished overall by his reaction and witnessing the evident truth of his statement suspiciously brightening his eyes for reasons she knew not would affect him so deeply, Inia leans on the pale wood and is pleased she does not need to angle her neck uncomfortably to speak with a man for once due to their close range in height. Pale garnet threading to enchanting peridot, she speaks in a similar fashion how she soothed Kayn, "I would prefer if you do not. Loki, it is alright, I assure you. I accept it, but you must remember that the future changes constantly with every choice we make and every action we take, although the destination is always remains. … Time is both limited and infinite, a complex concept I have damned more than I can count, but I accept my purpose for existence and choose to do the upmost I can even if I must sacrifice parts of myself to do it."
"Tis still your life to live." He argues vehemently, the growl in his silken voice strengthens a crescendo of estranged emotions her explanation seemed to have unintentionally unleashed. "You have the right to do as you please, Inia. You are a goddess in your own right and come from the highest form of respect and nobility. Gods, you are a princess, an heiress of the Vanir crown rather you consider yourself as such or not."
"I do not wish to rule and for once I am relieved the Norns and I are in agreement. You are also not the first to state as such. Freyr has bargained with Gaea and Odin attempting to lift the bestowment from me, but they have denied him a hundred-fold. I understand; the results of my Norn sedir is needed and there is no telling what would occur across the universe if I were to be relieved of my duties or if I were to suddenly perish."
"And if you do perish, shall it be another one-hundred millennia before the next Norn Child is born?"
"I can only assume so."
It shall be many centuries of days contemplating miscellaneous moments of the future, diligently etching splashes of prophecies in color before she becomes lost to a sea of blackness. Knowing this, a strange sense of content clasps the foresight hand-in-hand, calming her presently while the circumstances granting her end is cloaked even from her. However, drifting in a vastness of silence wrapped by the cool clutches of sweet death, she has not a reason to fear anything. By that time in her lifespan, Inia expects she may welcome the tranquil end rather than challenge the prospect of frantically surging for a lifeline to keep her thriving. Survival shall be fruitless by that point.
His eyebrows furrow quizzically. "You do not know?"
"I can only see what has, is, and shall come during my lifetime. Anything beyond me is a leaf in the wind, neither here nor there."
After several beats of soft aerations of the breeze gusting to and fro the pair wafting mixes of flora to tickle her wiggling nose, cueing a barely-there smile from the prince, a quiet voice touches her ears. "My apologizes. My brashness and ignorance was out of place."
"Worry not, Loki. You are forgiven."
"I thank you."
"Of course." Stifling a giggle at the flabbergasted, lost look cresting him, Inia struts for Kayn secured to a low branch patiently awaiting attention or command of transportation. Caressing a stripe up and down the length of his snout and patting a wide circle on his neck, her blossom sight seeks Asgard's master of magic and seeing as he vanished, she sighs woefully. "Loki, if you are here I –"
Thunder bellows in the distance and Kayn rears, hooves kicking high and thrashing wildly as neighing screams chase scores of lightening crackling in the starry sunshine of day.
Oh Gaea. That cannot be good.
"Shhhh. All is well, Kayn. Breathe, stallion, breathe. Ah, there you are. Good. Breathe, Kayn. Shh. Rest here while I retrieve Loki, alright? I shall return, just remember to breathe." Rubbing his neck for a final time, Inia plasters a hand to the holster on her thigh, cautious of the environment's many thickets and pockets of sanctuary for wild beasts or enemies of the throne to hide within. "Loki? … Loki, cease this nonsense! I must return to Nerthus and I highly doubt your brother shall be pleased if I left you to your devices stranded in the wilderness, not to mention Frigga's import of punctuality! Loki! This is no time to game with me!"
"What is this symbol?"
Circling around a massive tree and finding said prince crouching on the forest floor interpreting her illustration, Inia halts a couple feet before a contemplative Loki.
Apparently he has discovered the random etching her foot created and has taken interest in the design.
"Nothing of imp –" Her tongue bridals. She sighs exasperatedly.
"You cannot lie, especially to a liar. Though, I appreciate the effort of you warping your morals for me."
Eyes narrowing at his egotism, she breathes curtly, "Do not flatter yourself, I have not lied."
"Only because you physically cannot." He chimes cheekily, looking much too thrilled with this revelation.
"I have seen it a handful of times throughout my centuries, none the more. Come along, I do not believe Nerthus shall journey to this field today. When she does, I plan to be with her which shall vary the premonition and divert future travesty." Noticing he makes no quest to move and grazes dexterous fingers over the geometrics in the dirt, she squats beside him regarding it blankly. "What is it, Loki?"
"Tis familiar to me, but I know not how."
For the life of her, she cannot restrain herself from memorizing the endearing divot of confusion creasing the space between his eyebrows or dragging her eyes over the faint lines of thoughtfulness returning centuries of youth to his face and making him all the more beautiful when he is not self-consciousness enough to school his dark and sharp features upon a throne of perfectly unblemished ivory, reminding the Vanir of freshly fallen snow. Immediately, her gaze swoops to the nearest tree a couple lengths aside them as he looks up. In her gut, she is sure he has felt her stare scouring the complimentary proportions of a hawk nose and the slim shape of pink lips or the definition of his jaw in the corner of his eye and simply humors her natural curiosity, though she strongly rebukes the horrific realization.
Why in Vana did I turn toward a tree of all things? There are flowerbeds all around, Inia. Gods, you are ridiculous. Let us pray he does not mention it, surely he cannot be that cruel. Surely.
Feeling eyes strongly upon her, she wonders if this is what it feels to be admired, but again dismisses her imagination when she indeed discovers Loki discernment, looking at her strangely for whatever reason. "Well, when you discover why, I would appreciate it if you share your findings with me."
"Of course." He glints skyward, green orbs looking between the canopies veiling the daylight stars overhead. "The thunder is nothing to concern yourself with. I am sure Thor is attempting to win the affections of your princess and bring her to his bed by the mystics of Mjolnir."
Her mouth sterns discreetly, a small behavioral habit of distaste and stress she often wields publically usually occurring so quickly none but those familiar to her never witness the action opposed to her self-suffocation of screaming viciously in the privacy of her bedchambers, preferably into a pillow. On the rare chance one does witness this miniscule frown, they never think anything of it and attribute it to be her dull, introvert personality.
"You are upset."
Her face twists incredulous, hints of horror and amazement swirling her eyes. She stiffens defensively once on her feet and faces the royal who also rises. "Oh? And how do you know this, trickster? Do not lie to me or I shall compel the truth from you."
"What does that entail?" He ponders smoothly, perking with devious interest.
"Loki." She warns, pursing her lips.
"You are an honest creature, for you this means every thought that crosses your glorious face is genuine because you know not how to control your emotions despite the stern helm of a priestess. I am the best liar within the Nine, I can smell the aura of deceit in a gathering of thousands and I sense no falsehoods in you whatsoever. If that is not convincing enough, I happened to notice how your fingers tremble in apprehension and anxiety. When you are angry, frustrated and annoyed, your mouth purses. If something is of interest to you, a single eyebrow raises, typically the right one." He raises his own brow to demonstrate in a way she is sure is meant to be smug and prideful but begrudgingly, looks quite comical to her. "Also, your arms cross when you ponder with great strain, tis also your resting stance."
Any other time, she would giggle at his comedic mimicry and body language skills but her body goes through said motions of frustration, utter horror sprinkled with guilt and paranoia, her dose of usual sadness, ultimate acceptance, and lastly curiosity. "Am I that transparent?"
Gods he is observant.
"Crystal. Though, I would worry not of others seeing you as so, for they have not my perception. Now, you are upset. Tell me why."
For a moment, it sounds as if he is trying to reassure her until vanity stokes the fire of his egotism and smolders her revelation to ash, far beyond the possibility of his glassy observation concerning herself.
"I fear her maidenhood may become lost to her before I am able to preside over her nuptial. A blessing of fortune upon a royal by the hand of a priestess such as myself is Vanir tradition. Dismissing these bestowments have reflected consequences before."
Severe consequences. Freyr can attest to this; tis another reason why he cares not if Idunn or I wed nor produce heirs, she sighs.
"I see." Within a few strides of his long legs, Loki leads them to Kayn's side where said steed nuzzles and knicks at her neck, making her giggle and playfully push the charger's head aside and repeat the process for several moments. The prince observes her patting the animal warmly, a faint smile gracing her plush mouth as his cool fingertips finally pay his runner affection by petting a velvety snout. His voice octaves much softer than he typically cares for, still catering spite indirectly aimed toward the blonde. "Is every lady in the green realm subjugated in maidenhood for the entirety of their lives or is this fruitless privilege segregated only to your dear aunt and yourself?"
"We Vanir are stricter in matrimony. This applies to all, though not all of us agree with tradition." Inia hopes he can feel the hole her stare burns into his skull, praying it makes him uneasy so he shall cease this path of questioning leading to the familiar and unwelcome subject of her counterpart.
"Freyr cares not for these traditions, does he?"
"Whether he does or not is no matter to concern yourself with, Loki. Please, enough enquires now. We are both needed at the Palace." Just as she reaches for the reins, her mouth morphs frustration and her eyes burn at the pale hand swiping them deftly out of her reach. If she was not irritated before, she is when he mounts and stretches a hand, leaving Inia to his polite, if not merciful mood, and ultimate control of Kayn who bobbles his head upon finishing a filling graze. She glares. "You are not as charming as you believe you are."
"No? Well, only time shall tell." That smug look crests his handsome face, poking a charismatic dimple aside his mouth. "Come, Jera awaits us."
Saddled between Kayn and Loki's front, left to grip the horn-handle to unintentionally brushing into the comforting and familiar serenity a Jotunn's coolness brings from one to another, Inia dials a keen, artist-eye here and there, to and fro the breathtaking beauty of the meadow and forests dashing hooves trample. A slow-burning and ever-consuming glow of a great sorrow dusts the harbinger within, flickering a deep-seeded sensation of a hollowness she has known her entire life, alighting a fresh wick of fear only a seer such as herself feels in her marrow. Thick as blood, true as teardrops, swift as fate, her gaze rounds a broad shoulder that is not her own, realizing that everything comes to an end.
~ Norn Vision/Foresight as Harbinger~