Between the Lines

Secrets and Lies

February 2008

          Sif... No, no; that was too informal. My dearest Sif?

   I groaned as I tore the paper from the journal, crumbling it into a tight ball only for it to land amongst at least a dozen others as I stared helplessly at the fresh and empty journal page. I knew break-ups were hard, but why was this so difficult when there wasn't any love in our relationship to begin with?

   For over thirteen years now, I had held up my end of the bargain and pretended to court Sif in hopes of one day being allowed to marry her. Neither of us had ever thought it would be allowed to go this far, particularly not I seeing as Father was still set upon marrying Sif to Thor despite acting as if he was giving us a chance. I had never wanted to completely ruin his plans for that, I had just wanted to toss a wrench of jealousy-fueled hatred into them in hopes that perhaps he would name me future king instead. As scheduled, though, the announcement had come during Nyttarsbukk celebrations over a month ago; Thor was to be named future king and I, I was to be his counsel until such a time as he wished to relieve me from such duties. Just as my uncle, Tyr, had been appointed to Father after the war with Muspelheim had stolen the lives of his elder brothers, Vili and Vé, leaving them the remaining accepted sons of Bor, I was expected to serve and oversee my brother; to help keep him on the right path until he either chose someone else or I deemed him capable of protecting the realm without me. I often wondered how such a task could fall to and be expected of someone such as me, yet here we were.

   To make matters worse, not only was I still entangled with Sif, for better or worse at the moment, but I had also allowed myself to become involved with Fandral shortly before the Jul celebrations had commenced. It had happened by accident, yet it had been a happy one as despite not truly caring for him the way he deserved either, I felt more connected to Fandral than Sif. Despite seeing many battles, she had not faced the hardships Fandral had, nor had she ever been forced to hide her true feelings and base emotions as we had; she was simply not broken as we were. And while Fandral and I would never completely understand one another, at least we could bond over our similar traumas, mostly because he cared enough to listen to mine... I sighed, hating myself for the juggling act I had created within my tangled web. I wanted nothing more than to drop just one of the items I felt doomed to carry, but which was the right choice? Sif felt like the right one as despite the issues my relationship with Fandral presented, at least there was something close to real within it.

   I looked down at the notebook again, the blankness of the paper seeming to mock me as I wracked my brain trying to think of the words. For all the secrets and lies I kept, this one had been almost as hard to maintain as my 'disdain' for Eibhlin; I would be glad when it was over. Picking up the book of fairytales, I opened it to the title page of the tale of The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces, Eibhlin's favorite, where I had hidden the sprig of rock cress flowers she had left on my plate of waffles almost three years prior. How was it that such a simple thing brought me so much peace? I held the delicate dried bunch of flowers carefully in my fingers, a small smile overtaking my face. This had to be done; I couldn't keep living a lie, Sif and I deserved better... even if that better meant my being alone, or worse- father marrying me off to someone of his choosing as a means of protecting our treaties now that a decision had been made.

   Honestly, this should have been done years ago when we first realized that the plan wasn't going to work. By the time that had become clearer though, I had developed an appreciation of her company; even if it wasn't completely returned. We had been over our heads from the beginning, everyone seemed to know it yet no one had done anything to stop us; no one had even seemed to care, at least not the way we had wanted them to... Maybe that was why we had carried on for so long. Despite not caring much for the other, in many ways, we were all the other had, or at least we had been until everything with Fandral had begun. That was yet another problem I had to consider as I plotted out my note; unless I chose to be the coward I was beginning to feel I was and never spoke word of it.