Winter of Yggdrasil

Chapter 2

Merek was not in the gardens. Most mornings, she found him meditating in the courtyard that bloomed with flowers from Anaheim. Turning away, she cut through the maze of flora until she made it to the stables. Sleipnir poked his head out of the stall as she approached. She rubbed his neck and let him out. Not bothering with a saddle, she allowed a stable hand to help her up. She sat with her legs to one side and grabbed Sleipnir's mane. Sleipnir needed no urging. He left the stable and walked on until they reached open plain. She nudged him with her knee and he sped up, finally coming to a gallop. He stopped automatically at a low rise not far from the palace. She sighed and rolled into the grass.

"My life is about to end, Sleipnir." Her brother's large brown eyes seemed to tell her to stop being so fatalistic. She sighed and closed her eyes. The hill was empty, meaning Merek had wandered into the copse of trees below. He would find her.

The grass crunched as footsteps approached and stopped beside her. Kenna kept her eyes closed, recognizing his presence. He laid down beside her and she immediately rolled into his side, smiling as he lifted an arm and wrapped it around her. She opened her eyes and looked up at Merek. He didn't look like the strange, decaying creature he once was. Naturally, he was a pale grey with red eyes like a Jotun and small, slightly pointed teeth. However, he had taken to concealing his appearance and now appeared to her as a normal being, perhaps more like a Vanir than an Aesir. Kenna looked over his deep-set black eyes and tan skin.

"Did I interrupt your meditation?" She asked.

Merek glanced at her. "No. I sensed trouble in here." His finger pressed gently between her eyes. She sighed and put her head down on his shoulder. "You're worried your father will bring you a suitor." He said finally.

She shook her head. "I don't care if he does. I'm not ready to marry and I won't pay any mind to the man he thinks is right for me."

"We just want you to meet him."

Sitting up slowly, Kenna searched his calm gaze. "We?"

"We." He nodded. "I found him myself. You'll like him."

Warmth flooded Kenna's reddening face and she turned away from him, pushing herself to her feet. "Why are you helping them?" She demanded.

"Because it will make you happy. Trust me, Tallah."

"Don't 'Tallah' me, you know how I feel about this, Merek!"

"As your mind is twined with mine, I am well aware. And you know what I think of it. Tallah... please."

Kenna sighed. It was impossible to be angry with him when he called her that. He claimed it was an endearment in his language. He said it with such fondness and warmth that she knew he was only looking out for her well-being, however much they may disagree on what her well-being meant. She watched him pick a purple wildflower from the grass and twist it slowly in his hands, his eyes and thoughts contemplative.

"Will you protect me from all the other idiots who try to compete for my hand?" She sank down beside him.

He nodded. "Of course. No one is worthy of my favorite princess."

She shook her head. "Except this one man?" He nodded again.

"Exactly." Smiling softly, he pushed the stem of the flower into her hair. "Trust me."

"I'll probably end up marrying to stop a war. Goddess of Peace and all that. Seems fitting."

"You will marry when, whom, and why you want to. I will allow nothing else."

She rolled her eyes and stood again. Her hands twirled lazily at the wrists as a stream of water rose from the grass, turning a small patch of it brown. She flicked it at him. Merek sputtered and glared at her as she laughed. He jumped up and tackled her, throwing her over his shoulder. He spun her around, laughing as she cried for mercy. She beat at his back and laughed. He set her down, rubbing the top of her head playfully. She grinned and fixed her hair. He picked up the fallen flower and returned it to her.

"Even if I do marry and I have to leave... You'll come with me, right?"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "Of course. I'll follow wherever you go. I will leave you only if you ask me."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now, you only have a few hours before you must get ready. How are they to be spent?"

Pulling him back down into the grass, Kenna crossed her legs and faced him. "Can we practice again?"

Merek nodded. "Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing..."

..

Hours later, Kenna was standing outside the great doors to the throne room. She took a deep breath and smoothed out her ball gown. A pale arm curled around her shoulders and she looked up at her father. He wore his formal royal attire, the usual horns sitting atop his head. She straightened the helmet and he smiled.

"There is nothing to fix. You can't stall forever." She bit her lip and wavered on her feet. He nodded to the guard and the door opened. She put on a bright smile and stepped into the throne room with her father. The crowd erupted into cheers and Kenna saw Ebony smile at her from the golden dais.

They walked through the crowd and up to the throne. Thor stood beside the throne along with Ebony and Frigga. Odin sat in the giant gold chair, overseeing the event. Thor stepped forward and began the first of a few long speeches and rituals. Finally, Kenna watched as Merek walked through the aisle with a large black pillow. On it sat a purple and gold circlet, her crown. She swallowed hard and smoothed out her matching dress. The circlet was presented to Thor and Kenna curtsied, staying low as Thor turned to her.

"Here we welcome you as a goddess and a woman. Kenna, Goddess of Peace." He gently placed the circlet on her head and stepped back. She rose from her curtsy and smiled nervously. The crowd clapped and cheered. She turned to them and curtsied again. The doors were opened and everyone headed for the grand dining room. They all gave each other knowing looks as Kenna went through the crowd and led the way along with her mother. For this celebration, there would be no presents. There was only one surprise and everyone was impatient to see the reaction.

Hidden in the crowd, the same young man watched the new princess with worry coiling in his chest. Would she reject him, he wondered. Was he good enough? Loki's hand clapped onto his shoulder.

"The first dance is mine by tradition, of course. Then she's all yours." The man nodded and watched as Loki went to join his family.