The Goddess Martyr

Chapter 6 :D

I groaned quietly, while the elf went on happily. She told me about what I was going to be doing till after lunch – dish duty. This time I groaned loudly, and she patted my inured shoulder in sympathy, making me wince silently. We entered the dining hall, Valhalla, kids still filing out, chatting and looking at me in interest when they passed. My stomach clenched again, but with hunger this time. I noticed several other thralls working, clearing the giant table of dishes. Reluctantly, I went over to help them, working silently until I accidentally collided with one of them. My dishes clattered back onto the wooden table, being knocked out of my hands, and I muttered an apology while I picked them back up. One of the glasses had spilt orange juice all over me, and the cold liquid wasn’t making me feel any better.

The kid said nothing, but bent down and picked up a plate that had rolled onto the floor. Instead of taking it back, he piled it onto me with the rest of the dishes, and then moved to join the other thralls in their break. I jerked when the elf called from the cafeteria, “Yoohoo!! Jenson!! If you finish up with that fast enough, you can help me with lunch!!”

The other thralls turned to look at me, all guys except for one girl. The guy who’d helped me earlier, Chinese with styled hair, gaped at me. I just stared at him in confusion, wondering why they were suddenly paying attention to me, when the Chinese guy said, “Dude, she’s your patron?”

I nodded, clutching onto the dishes, wanting to drop them off so I could stop inhaling the scent of breakfast. My stomach was hungry, and the delicious smells weren’t helping.

He gave me an unexpected grin, flashing a thumbs-up at me. “Man, you’re lucky. Bladhår’s the nicest of the Ljósálfar, always flirting and letting us do the easy chores. But the best part’s her tits. Have you seen them? Huge, right? Daaaammmnnn.” This last part was uttered as Bladhår came out from behind the cafeteria, walking towards me. I couldn’t help noticing that her chest was, uh, voluptuous, but at least I was decent enough to snap my eyes away as the Chinese guy drooled. She stopped beside me, running a twig finger lightly across my cheek, and purring, “C’mon cutie. You can put those away, and then we can get cooking.” I looked up to see her winking at me again, turning around and walking back to the cafeteria. I followed her, turning around only once to see the Chinese guy miming a squeezing motion with his hands, and the girl smacking him on the side of his head, her face vicious.

Behind the front of the cafeteria, there were steel tables for cooking and stacking food on. I spotted a huge sink, already filled with literally a mountain of dirty dishes. I was surprised, though, by the wooden walls and the open cooking fire in the middle of the room. To me, this room was a giant fire hazard, but the other elves (and some dwarves, I noticed) seemed perfectly fine with the threat that a spark could send this place in flames. Several elves, hair short and made of grass instead of leaves, were turning a giant spit of some creature, the serpentine body making my body both turn away in revulsion but growl in hunger.

Bladhår noticed me staring at the roasting snake, and explained in her bird chirps, “That was caught this morning by the Campers in charge of hunting. I think the other son of Ull, Jeff, caught this one.”

I looked away from the snake, and at her, finally realizing something. “Wait,” I said incredulously, “We’re not going to eat that, are we?”

She smiled at me, turning to grab a bottle behind her, talking all the while, “Well, why not? Sure, it isn’t a normal snake like you’d find on Miðgarðr, born of the Jötnar, so it’d only attack you and eat you. But just because it eats you, why can’t you eat it?”

Pleased with her logic, she stepped closer to the fire, minding it so she didn’t catch her twig fingers in the licking flames. She tipped the bottle over, sprinkling the sharp-scented spice over the snake as it spun around. The glistening, dark meat did smell tantalizing, but another thought popped into my head, making me regret all the “steak” I’d had at Camp so far.