June 24th, 1995
Åkervekking... Sif's favorite holiday and the one she had chosen to enact her poorly concocted plan. Perhaps I was placing too much blame upon her shoulders as I had jumped upon the chance to create several hiccups within Father's perfect plans for Thor. Yes, it was petty, and jealous, and a list of at least a thousand other tawdry things, yet I felt every one of them. For so long I had watched from the shadows as Father had favored Thor. Always choosing him to enter last, to light the candles or give the toasts during our private holiday celebrations; even the colors he chose to press upon us were a direct reflection of how he had chosen Thor without announcing such.
The hatred I felt toward my father for pitting us against one another so obviously was something I did not feel any regret for, the bitterness and jealousy it left me holding for my brother, though, that I did regret. I did not want to hate Thor, if anything, I admired him- for Bor's sake I wanted to be just like him, as inane as that sounded. I was superior in many ways, yet I still could not attain the recognition from Father that I so rightfully deserved. Could he not see that I had ever wanted was to continue to be my brother's equal, to be as valuable as Thor to him...
I sighed, bitterly adjusting the black leather saberist jerkin that had been made for the occasion, the asymmetrical cut and three bracket-style buttons on the outside gave it a unique look that parried well with the emerald tunic I wore beneath it. It was a light outfit, perfect for the evening's festivities where I'd be paraded about by Sif from bonfire to bonfire as we welcomed in Sankthanks. I glowered into the mirror, putting on my best fake smile and quickly wishing that I had not agreed so quickly to behave.
A soft knock came at my door, emitting a groan from deep within me. "Sif, I understand the importance of this evening, however, I believe you have failed to understand the ideology behind the need for absence within a relationship."
"It is not Lady Sif, Your Highness," a familiar lilting, alto voice called through the door. I felt the small smile pulling at my lips as the tension left my shoulders.
With a deep breath, I stormed over to the door and threw it open, my face blank once more. "What is it? Can you not see I am busy?"
Her green eyes were stern, the touch of honey that danced within them becoming sharper with her irritation despite the warm smile on her plump lips. Eibhlin rudely shoved past me, a basket of folded linens in her olive-toned, bespeckled arms that peaked from the billowing sleeves of her simple kitchen dress, muttering about how she would only be a moment.
"This is not your job," I half bellowed, quickly kicking a pair of my braies under the nearest bookshelf. I hurriedly hid a bowl of hardened porridge under several books as well while she called back that Frida had injured herself on the back stairs so she was helping to complete some of her tasks today until things could be sorted after the festival. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was a complete and utter slob; a master of controlled and organized chaos, sure, but a pig? Certainly not!
She looked so beautiful in blue, as much as I hated to admit it; the color just made her large round eyes shimmer more and her hair seem to radiate with warmth. Both of which caused a greater amount of desire to rise within me than I cared to admit, just as the sight of her bent over my bed did as she quickly stripped my sheets and began to put fresh ones down.
I cleared my throat, perhaps more audibly than was necessary yet I had to make sure I continued the necessary façade that I could barely stand her; more so now that I would be pretending to be in a relationship with Sif.
"So, it is true then. You and Lady Sif?" Her voice was flat, not particularly cold yet not carrying its typical warmth either.
"Oh, um. Yes. I would request that you kept such confirmation to yourself however until she and I have made our announcement this evening." She just nodded at me, not looking up as she pulled the sheets tight to the mattress; stooping to gather the feathers that had come out of the base layer to plop into the fire for an easy clean-up solution. "Will I see you in the gardens tonight," I asked, my voice a bit more hopeful than I had meant to sound.
"I have been asked to man the dessert tables, as many of the pastries were made by me these last few nights."
"Oh, well, then I shall look forward to trying each one."
Eibhlin glanced at me, her right eyebrow raised as she balled up the dirty linens and placed them in the now empty basket. "Your Highness, there will be eight types of pastries and cakes... Forgive me, yet I believe even that may be too much for your sweet tooth."
I chuckled awkwardly, trying to quickly figure out a way around this mess I had made. "Will there be brunost and cinnamon waffles? Perhaps I shall eat nothing but those."
She shook her head, emptying my bed warmer and hanging it on the wall. "No, Your Highness. Yet I have utilized brunost in several cakes and pies, as I know that it is your favorite part of this time of year throughout Autumn." She gave me a soft knowing smile then as she headed toward the door, and I could not stop myself from smiling back despite my best efforts.
"Well, if the brunost was also made by you then I know that I am in for a true treat as you make everything feel and taste like summer." She paused, looking up at me over that small, delicate-looking shoulder of hers that I knew was so very capable of carrying more weight than Thor with all his might ever could.
"That is perhaps the nicest thing you have ever said to me," her voice was soft, her eyes flitting from mine to something just behind me at chest height and back again as a slight flush came to her cheeks, making the freckles dancing across them stand out further. "Thank you, Your Highness. I hope you enjoy the festival tonight." She gave me a soft smile, her eyes still cautious before she turned then, carefully opening the heavy ebony heartwood door enough to sneak back out into the halls where she almost seemed to dance away. I smiled and shook my head, peering through the door to watch her do so before I closed the illusion and returned to preparing for the festival.
Sif and I entered the fair grounds an hour before the sun was scheduled to set. She had chosen a soft dress of earthy brown with moss green and wheat yellow accents to mirror the coming harvest growth. It was simple, loose-fitting, and allowed her to show off her sizeable muscles. Standing next to me, she almost looked like I had bewitched Thor into a woman, minus the brown of her hair. I sighed, already bored as we walked toward the orchard to gather for the trek to the fields where we would begin Åkervekking before the sun fully set and the bonfires were lit while Mother saw over the silly tradition of Lekebryllup.
"Could you at least attempt to look as though you are enjoying this; it may make it more believable," Sif snapped through her smile.
"I am here, holding your hand, dressed to compliment your attire as requested; is that not enough? Honestly, if I did not believe that this would serve us both well-"
"You would what," she asked turning toward me, adjusting the collar of my jerkin in an effort to hide the scowl she now wore. "I have very little desire toward you, this is not something I have ever hidden; yet if Thor cannot see the error of his ways, cannot see that I am a beautiful young woman who could give him vast many things, then I shall have you instead."
"How touching. So kind of you to choose me in his stead."
"Now you listen here, you spindly-" I pressed my lips to hers as Father drew near, his eye quickly fixing on our display as Mother smiled happily.
"Is this not a wonderful surprise," she cried, her eyes misting as she wrapped her arms around us both. "And here I had thought that it would be Sif and Thor I should someday find entangled, seeing how they were always first in line to participate in Lekebryllup. I am so happy for you both."
Sif thanked her graciously; they were both either very convincing actresses or I was less perceptive than I thought. Thor gave me a soft smile, his hand clapping me upon the shoulder as he passed while Fandral gave me a horrified look as if I had fed him live rabbits and both Hogun and Volstagg simply walked past shaking their heads. What did I care? Deep down I had known none of them were truly my friends; just like Father, I was simply allowed to tag along because I was Thor's brother.
"Is this truly what you wish, my son; a partnership with the Lady Sif, and she with you?"
Father stood before me, his normal spear traded in for the festivities for a staff of gnarled ash limb; his eye focused on me. "Yes. We have developed rather deep ties to one another over these years while you have stolen Thor's focus on preparing him for the throne."
"I see. And how is it that I am just now knowing of these deep ties?" He was attempting to catch me in the lie he almost seemed to know I was telling.
"When have you ever paid enough attention to notice what goes on in my life? Sif and I have played together since childhood, sparred together both in jest and in small assignments granted to us by you, Tyr, or Ødger; it was only natural over time for such things to develop."
He nodded, studying me still. Behind him, I saw Eibhlin arrive with several other young maids from the kitchens, though she was by far the fairest of them despite her ears. They had all changed into brightly colored day dresses, fresh flowers braided in their hair as they floated like butterflies to begin setting the tables while we nobles went to the fields to chant the silly wake-up rhymes. Eibhlin had been given a cream dress that had an almost pink tone to it, which was fitting given that the ribbons on both sides of the dress and in her auburn hair were the same shade of petal pink. She had kept her hair long, save for the three slender braids that circled her head; the ribbon woven within alongside rock cress, sandwort, knoppsildre, and one large glazier buttercup placed strategically beside her left ear.
"Perhaps I have not paid as much attention as I had thought," I heard Father say, my head snapping up and to my right to see him glancing in the direction he thought I had been looking where Sif stood, laughing with Mother and another noble woman who I vaguely recognized. "I had always thought her more suitable for your brother, a queen that would demand just as much respect as he did. Perhaps I misread things if you are so enamored with her while he is off preferring the company of his warriors."
"Yes," I said, my eyes still locked on Eibhlin; "She certainly has a way of making my day better no matter what has occurred, or is occurring with just the simplest glance of her."
He patted my shoulder then, a heavy sigh leaving him. "I cannot say that I approve, nor that you have my blessing at this time. I still intend to betroth her to Thor as I feel that match is far more lucrative to the realms than one to you would be; yet I shall consider this development as there are still twelve more years before an announcement for my successor must be made. Enjoy the festivities." He was so short, so curt, and frustrating. I feigned sincerity in my thanks as I made my way to Sif, forcing my eyes not to linger on Eibhlin though I could see and feel hers look up and follow me as I passed.
I hastily grabbed Sif's hand, tempted to put an end to everything before it had even begun when Father handed the staff to Thor, announcing that we would follow him to the fields. "What are you waiting for? We shall be left behind if you do not move your feet, cow," Sif scowled, releasing my hand to hastily chase after the man she truly wanted as I spared Eibhlin a final glance.
No one said this had to be forever, and it was not like I would have to remain faithful to one who had openly admitted to being more likely to sleep with Volstagg than me; I could have mistresses and concubines... I chastised myself for daring to even think of her as such before turning in a huff to storm after my oh-so-lovely girlfriend, intent to pull her aside and set some exceptionally firm boundaries if we were to go through with this.
By the time we returned to the bonfire area, a beautiful alter of flowers had been set up for the children wishing to participate in Lekebryllup, illuminated by the last fleeting rays of the setting sun as several male members of the kitchen staff helped the High Priest in consecrating the bonfires all at once so that they could be lit as the final rays of the sun disappeared. It was a surprisingly beautiful tradition, one of my favorites; second only to Hoppe Ind I Det Nye År where I would beat Thor each year by leaping highest off a dining hall chair at the stroke of midnight. Food lined every table and several of the young maids I had seen from earlier walked about with pitchers filled with either geitramssaft, fjellbekk, or gin løpstikke. I quickly took up a goblet and had a woman roughly Thor's age with flaxen hair fill half with the herb-spiced gin, while a raven-haired girl who I had seen Eibhlin in the gardens with before top fill the rest with the fireweed juice.
Her icy blue eyes seemed to watch me closely as she bit at her far too thin lip, curtseying as she playfully muttered 'my prince' before fluttering off arm in arm with the other girl; no doubt more in her cups than she had a right to be at such an early hour. A great cheer arose as the fires were lit and the music began. Sif ran past, her fingers catching my chin to graze across my skin as she winked at me in passing, chasing after Fandral and Thor. With a roll of my eyes, I began to weave through the crowd and fires searching for the table Eibhlin had said she would be stuck behind for the evening. I finally found her, slicing and placing pieces of bread onto platters with butter and sorrel leaves before sprinkling them with blue cheese and honey, a bowl of walnuts sat nearby for those who wished to include them atop their pieces of smørbrød as well.
"I thought you said you would be in charge of the dessert table, yet I see no pies or cakes here. Only bread and cheese," I teased, watching as she continued her work not once looking up at me.
"It is not yet time for dessert, Your Highness. If you would like, when Hlíf announces that I may begin bringing them out, I shall make sure you are the first to know." Her voice, despite holding a sharp edge, was still soothing to my ears.
Not knowing what else to say or do and not wishing to appear too interested in her, I picked up the piece she had just finished, quickly stuffing it into my mouth as she rolled her eyes. At least she had looked at me. As I lifted a second piece, I noticed a braided floral chain draped over the stack of baskets behind her, beside which stood a smaller one holding additional flowers. Along with the flowers she wore in her hair, she had braided in forget-me-nots, mugwort, angelica, cerise and storklokke.
"What is that," I asked pointing at it as I reached for the bowl of walnuts.
She turned her head over her shoulder and blushed softly. "Oh, um... It is going to be a candle garland."
"A candle garland, for what?"
"For something that does not concern you," she said, her voice light, almost teasingly flirtatious as she took the bowl of walnuts back from me before I could take another fistful. I frowned, snatching one anyway as she set the bowl back down, returning to her work and smiling softly as others came to pick up the nibbles she had laid out to set beside their grilled bits of fish or sausage.
As she conversed with one couple, I snuck a sausage from his plate. Not that he would have missed it too terribly as he had four others stacked there. She eyed me knowingly as they walked away though, double checking that there was still enough food before she lifted the garland and began braiding the flowers into it. I couldn't help but watch her short, nimble fingers. Her hands looked as if they should have been rough, yet of the few times I had managed to feel the caress of one they had been as soft as my tunics with just the slightest touch of callous on the very edges of her thumb where she most often held a pencil or knife.
"Should you not be with Lady Sif?"
"Hmm? Oh, the announcement was made to less-than-stellar reviews. To be quite honest, I would much rather be off causing my usual brand of chaos than having to subject myself to laying at the sharp end of such a knife for the sake of duty," I admitted with a sigh, not expecting her to understand.
"I see." As I suspected she did not understand anyway, which was perhaps for the best anyway. "You know, and perhaps this is bold of me to say, yet I also find myself wishing for the comfort of normalcy when forced before a crowd. Though respectfully, I do believe our reasonings vary greatly."
What was this feeling; shock, perhaps awe that she did understand? And not just understand but empathize? I had never met anyone capable of understanding the dread that these social gatherings brought within me, the tiresome repetition of them all combined with the heavy weight of expectation. And for Eibhlin, that all had to be magnified as those either not used to her appearance or who still refused to acknowledge her kindness, who harbored resentment toward her for simply existing could be cruel. Shamefully, I had been one of those individuals. Something I was beginning to regret more and more with each passing moment.
"Loki, there you are, Love! Your mother and brother thought it would be hilarious if we participated in the little mock weddings; she feels the children would find it a dream come true." I turned my head, forcing Sif to catch my cheek with her kiss; my eyes glancing toward Eibhlin once more as discreetly as I could make them. She had her head bowed, her ears drooping slightly as she worked on her garland. "Shall we away then?"
"In a moment I was just-"
"You can play with your little dog later, Dearest," she said through clenched teeth, her fingernails digging into my wrist.
With my fakest smile, I removed her hand, slithering my own around her waist as I glared into her eyes. "Of course, Pet, I would hate for anyone to think I had eyes for anyone but you."
By the time I returned to my room that evening, the bonfires had all but extinguished on their own, the last of them were being put out as I watched from my window. I had tried several of Eibhlin's deserts, making it my goal to have every single one that included the brunost after our conversation as she had changed my sheets. This resulted in my eating a slice each of two different layered cream cakes- one a basic vanilla and the other a summer berry-, a cream pie, cloudberry cheesecake, as well as two caramel cinnamon buns. I had been so full I had had to ask Thor to carry me back to my room.
Seated as comfortably as was possible in my window then, I allowed myself to think over the night as my stomach worked to process everything I had consumed. The staff had managed to tear down most of the tables and arches before most of the guests left as the night had dwindled on. They were, if nothing else, a very dedicated team. After alleviating myself of some of the discomforts so much food had caused, I gathered my cloak and went down to help; if anything, I might be able to prove that I was not as standoffish as many of them seemed to claim, though in all honesty I still did not care.
I stepped into the garden at the edge of the orchard just as Frode and some other men were raking the coals after having doused them with water to make sure they had thoroughly put the flames out. Most of the girls from earlier were either gone or carrying the last of the linens, pitchers, and tableware inside, a few were asleep on benches. I looked around for Eibhlin as I helped move tables much to the surprise of Hlíf. Since Åge's passing nearly fifteen years ago, and Thyra's only two years later, she had become the head of the kitchen. I had never been her favorite person, yet she always made sure that I had extra rugbrød at dinner.
Eventually, I simply asked if anyone had seen her. Both Frode and the girl with the icy blue eyes, who he referred to as Yrsa, agreed that she had mentioned heading toward the pier. I finished helping with the tables, quickly teleporting to the pier just in time to see Eibhlin wade into the water of the slanted pier used for funerals. She followed it down, her dress clinging to her legs as her skirt soaked up the water as she walked, a lone candle flickering in the night sky to light her path. I stepped to the side, hiding cowardly behind a pillar to watch as she stopped, the water up to her knees as she stooped and carefully released the little garland, the candle standing proudly in the center as it floated down the tunnel.
She climbed out of the trench, following as it slowly made its way out to the sea. Cloaking myself, I followed silently, wondering what she was doing. As she reached the end of the pier, Eibhlin knelt and looked out over the sea. "Áine... If it so pleases you... Let this garland travel safely to Tuatha Dé Danann where someone may know who is suited for me if such a soul exists. Perhaps it is selfish in this time of agricultural need to ask this of you, yet I do not wish to spend the rest of my eternity watching everyone else find someone. I do not wish to be alone any longer..."
She pulled her knees to her chin then, the quickly growing swell of her bosom should have rendered such impossible yet feminine physics seemed to be beyond my understanding as she managed far easier than I expected. I watched as she lowered her forehead to them next, her soft sobs tugging on my heart. I wanted to wrap her in my arms, to tell her that she was not alone, yet I knew that I could do no such thing for several reasons. With a sigh, I teleported back to my room and stretched out on my bed in silence.
It was too late to admit my error, too late to call things off with Sif. Even if it was not, after years of having tormented her, how could I possibly say to Eibhlin what I now felt? No... No, I would maintain my silence. Perhaps I would manage to develop feelings for Sif and she some for me after all. Perhaps this would not be as bad as it felt at this moment with some more time and distance; this would be easy.
As dawn quickly approached while I lay there in my thoughts, a small knock came upon my door. I called out to see who was there, yet there was no answer. Bitterly, I rose, my eyes widening as I found a plate of waffles that smelled of cinnamon and the rich, nutty caramel-like scent of brunost delicately topped with a generous portion of sweet whipped cream and lovingly placed cloudberries. A sprig of five pure white rock-cress flowers decorated the plate, a subtle hint as to who had made and brought me such a fine breakfast. Oh yes... Yes, this was going to be easy indeed.