Endlessly

Cold Feet

"NO." She shouts, sitting completely upright on the soul forge, the wisps of light floating above her all begin to scatter and dance around frantically.

You grab ahold of her shoulders in an attempt at calming her down. She cannot get this upset while in her condition. "Sister! Please-"

"Gersemi." She commands, shrugging your hands off of her.

You hold your hands up as a sign of surrender, giving her a nod.

"I need you to tell me right now, what you truly want. To Hel with politics, royalty and heirs. Forget our parents, our manors, our titles- and for the love of the gods, do not worry about me. What do you actually want? I will know if you are lying to me." 

Your heart leaps into your throat. She's right. She's been able to read you like a book since the day you were born; she'll know if you aren't being truthful with her; but, more importantly- she deserves you being truthful with her.

"I..." Your voice catches in your throat, and you force yourself through a rough swallow before continuing, "I want to be with Loki. I want to return to Asgard and tell him that he's going to be a father. I want him to forgive me for abandoning him and I... I think I want to marry him." All of the tears you've been holding back for weeks pour down your cheeks. You're embarrassed, defeated, and relieved to have finally shared your burden with someone.

Hnoss wraps her arms around you as you sob, brushes your hair out of your face and tucks your head under her chin. When you finally begin to compose yourself, she whispers, "Go to him."

"What about you?"

"Me?" She scoffs. "I'll be very much looking forward to your first visit once you've embraced your own happiness." She leans back to look you in the eyes, and in that moment, you know without a doubt that she's going to be okay.

It's time to finally do the right thing.

——————————-

The carriage ride back to the palace proves to be one of the most grueling experiences you've ever had to undergo. Luckily, you ride alone inside, while the coachman and the housecarl both sit outside on the box seat. 

What are you doing? What are you doing? What in the Norns are you doing?

You wipe the sweat from your palms onto the skirt of your dress as you fight back another horrific wave of nausea.

What the hel am I supposed to say to Aster? "Oh- hey, sorry... so, I'm actually pregnant with another man's kid. Hope you aren't too upset about that."

"We've arrived, Your Grace." The coachman's use of a title you haven't even officially earned yet, along with the realization that if you go through with this, you'll never earn that title and either way, you certainly do not deserve it, twists your stomach into a knot you can no longer bear.

You blunder through the carriage door with no grace whatsoever, stumbling as quickly as you can manage to the nearest bushes, and throw up.

"Your Grace! Should I retrieve the healers?" The housecarl calls out.

"No, no! I'm absolutely fine!" You raise your hand in his direction, with your face still buried in the shrubbery. "That road was frightfully bumpy- I will be having a word with the future king in regard to its wretched state." You stand upright once again, attempting to appear as regal and confident as physically possible in this moment, and storm into the palace without another word.

You must look like an absolute maniac, because every single staff member whose path you cross, looks at you as though you have two heads.

"Where is the prince?" You eventually shout toward a group of them. Three of them scatter away without saying a thing, and the one who remains timidly responds, "Sorry, we don't know, miss."

"I'm sorry for startling you." You give her a nod and continue to storm down the hall.

I... have no idea where I'm going.

You slow your pace as you reach into your pocket to retrieve your map. You continue to wander a bit until you get your bearings, realizing that you're actually closer to Aster's chambers than your own.

You hesitate for a moment, considering going to your room to take a moment to gather your thoughts.

Nope. I need to get this over with.

You march in the direction of Aster's quarters, not bothering to prep what you're going to say to him.

You round a corner, giving the guard a nod as you pass by. You half expect him to stop you as you near Aster's door, but he maintains his post.

Giving yourself no time to hesitate and possibly change your mind, you knock- half praying that he doesn't answer. After a few moments of silence, you let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

I probably should figure out what I'm going to say first, anyway.

You begin to wander back the way you came, opening up your map again. As you're looking for the quickest route back to your room, you notice that the palace gardens are on the way, and decide if you're ever going to see the Socotra tree that Bragi told you about, now may be your last opportunity to do it.

——————

Your heart skips a beat as you step into the palace gardens. They are completely enclosed by other sections of the palace, forming more of a giant courtyard rather than the open feeling you get inside of Asgard's royal gardens. Bragi came nowhere near describing the true splendor of the great Socotra tree, as it and its massive white roots take up nearly the entirety of the space.

You approach the tree, running your fingers along the roots sticking out of the ground. You feel almost as though an electrical current is running between the tree and yourself as you approach the base of it.

Gods, this is... otherworldly.

You drop to your knees at the trunk of the tree, reaching out to run your fingers along its smooth, white bark, very suddenly deciding: If there's any chance this tree truly is a part of Yggdrasil, this has got to be your best possible opportunity to pray to the Norns.

Norns- help me. I have been selfish and cruel. I have lost sight of who I really am- in a desperate attempt at being perfect. I am a fool- a fool for thinking that I could've possibly managed a scheme such as this-

A sudden change of texture underneath your fingertips catches your attention, distracting you from your silent pleas.

There are two runes carved into the base of the tree, so small and close to the ground that they'd be nearly impossible to spot with the naked eye. You run your hand over the inscription; a strange, sort of- familiarity within it washing through you as you lean down to get a closer look at them.

The first is ᚷ which symbolizes relationships, sacrifice, exchanges and partnerships. The next is ᛈ which symbolizes mysteries, secrets, and occult abilities.

What a peculiar combination.

You begin to dig away the dirt and mulch with your fingertips, searching for more runes that could possibly be hidden a bit lower on the tree, when you are consumed by an astounding flash of light, so brilliant it causes a buzzing in your ears and forces you to shut your eyes before it shifts into complete and total darkness.

And then, you fall.

And fall, and fall, and fall- until you're convinced that you must be dead; ripped downward into Hel, where you and all of the unworthy like you, belong.