~Chapter Nine: Cursed Parchment~
It is only my present company that keeps me from groaning in frustration. No, actually, it is not even my present company, as most of them are clearly traitors with how unsurprised they appear - aside from Veles, who noticeably paled - by Odin's request; it is my pride as a god and my unwillingness to reveal just how much I hate Odin in this moment.
And respect, but for the sake of my anger, that doesn't matter as much.
I could argue against Odin's request and ask that he choose something else, just as I could start plotting how to forge a document while figuring out which member of my pantheon is most likely to be willing to go behind the Dagda's back. However, I can tell by the stubborn set to Odin's jaw and the way he is watching me so patiently with his single eye that he is not going to change his mind, and if I were to try to pull a trick, he would know. Or Loki would figure it out, which is basically the same thing since Loki would promptly then tell Odin. Not because he is necessarily completely loyal to Odin, as no chaos god of trickery and deception can ever truly be counted on to be completely loyal to their ruler, but because he is clearly siding with Odin in this, as he has not looked at me once since this began.
"I will wait to hear back from Cronus or Atlas," I tell him grudgingly, only holding my complaints back by a thread. The fact that Odin actually seems surprised by my lack of fight is a bit rewarding, but the fact remains, if the Dagda reacts the way I expect him to, I am not sure if I will be able to go through with the plan Hades devised. However, without the Norse gods, I am not sure if I even would succeed in the extraction part of the plan. I could probably go to the Slavs, but again, that would mean a bigger target on Veles' back, and I have no doubt that once my former student thinks Odin's request over, he would convince Perun to make the same deal.
So, how much do I need their help?
Since the answer is regretfully 'enough,' as my options are severely limited by how long I have been out of the political circles, I just accept this as something I will have to work with, even as uncertainties begin to slowly worm their way through my earlier confidence. Fortunately, though, Odin does not demand more, as he just accepts, "So long as I receive a response before you enter the Hades' gates."
The conversation continues for another few minutes, but it only manages to keep half of my attention, as a gradually-growing pit of nauseous anxiety has taken root in my stomach, and most of my answers are automatic rather than thoughtful since I am too focused on keeping my fingers from tapping my leg to really care. The moment Veles, Loki, and I leave the throne room after being dismissed, though, my mounting fear rapidly switches into a burning ball of frustrated anger because it is easier to blame than worry, so I turn on Loki and jab him in the chest with my finger. "You knew," I hiss accusingly, "yet you didn't warn me."
"It was my idea," Loki replies, staring back at me unwaveringly while completely disregarding my finger. "And would warning you have even helped? Or would it have made you nervous, potentially worsening your condition at the time?"
"And what of my condition just now?" I demand, retracting my finger when it starts to twitch, as my hands are beginning to feel a bit shaky. "Or, better yet, why didn't you think of my condition when you proposed it to Odin in the first place?"
Loki steps forward into my personal space, toe-to-toe, and over his shoulder, I can see Veles twitch, uncertain of what to do. "That's exactly why I suggested it, Ainmire," he growls, his voice dipping into the gravelly tone that only jotunn can achieve. "We didn't know what Hades proposed, but we knew it was going to be something dangerous."
He pauses to take a deep breath. "It may be rushing the inevitable, if what you said about hiding the Titans with the Dagda is true," Loki continues, quieter, "but we also know that it has been far too long since you were with your pantheon, and you need them just as much as they need you, especially before you attempt something like this. You are always welcome here, but this is not your home, just a safe place to hide."
I scowl at him for a long moment. However, as my anger slowly starts to fizzle out, I huff and look away, clenching my hands into fists to keep them still. "I have a letter to think about," I eventually reply, and I will deny to my dying breath that it sounds sulky. When Loki looks prepared to add something, I merely cut him off with, "And I wish to do it alone."
- - - - - - -
Ruad Rofhessa,
I write to you
-
Almost immediately, I unnecessarily scratch out what I have written in a fit of frustration, and then I promptly erase it with a flick of my wrist and a brief shimmer of magic. It is tempting to toss the parchment on the floor to join the number of pens I have destroyed and been too upset to fix, but my access to parchment is far more limited while I have an entire box of disposable, ballpoint pens. After all, pens are quite common, but parchment has long-since been replaced with paper.
The Dagda, however, would likely not accept a thin sheet as a letter.
The king god of my pantheon - the Dagda to most, but Ruad Rofhessa on the occasion that those within my pantheon wish to be particularly respectful - is a bit of a traditionalist. Or, he was, and I do not want to tempt fate by assuming that that is no longer the case. He is undoubtedly going to be angry with me after he reads my letter; I just do not want him to be offended by the very letter itself.
Maybe I should just send a stone tablet; he might appreciate that more, I muse sourly.
Silently scoffing, I try again.
-
Ruad Rofhessa,
It has been many years
-
I stare at the words for a long moment as they start to blur together, but it is not an episode; it is just the fact that I have no idea what I am trying to say or what the Dagda will want me to say, and I thus do not know where to begin. I have tried to start this letter no less than thirty times - plenty more, though, as I intentionally stopped counting at thirty exactly ten attempts ago - and though there are only so many ways to start a letter, I cannot seem to find the one that feels right. How, exactly, does one start a letter to someone after disappearing for hundreds of years?
-
Ruad Rofhessa,
I am a horrible, horrible god who
-
Hissing in frustration, I toss my pen against the wall and stand up from the bed to start pacing along the length of my room, feeling like both a failure and a fool.
I'm going to have to think on this some more.
- - - - - - -
Ruad Rofhessa,
I know it has been some time, but I have returned, and
-
The ink vanishes between one breath and the next, mostly without conscious thought, but it is not as if that one was going to work. Burying my face in my hands, I groan in dismayed frustration, as this letter marks the third hour that I have been attempting this to no avail.
Perhaps I should try again tomorrow with a fresh mind.
- - - - - - -
The next day arrives, but it brings no relief.
-
Ruad Rofhessa,
It is to my great
-
My hands form into fists, as another attempt turns into a failure, and it is only because the walls are stone that I do not punch them in a fit of anger. I am unsure if the walls of Asgard are strong enough to withstand the strike of a god, after all, and the last thing I want to do is break my hand.
Though, if my hand is broken, perhaps someone could write the letter for me.
Before I can actually follow that line of thought, however, there is a knock on my door, and I quickly find myself unable to continue my musing, as I am suddenly presented with breakfast by an overly-chipper Ullr, who is all too eager to help me take my mind off this task for a little while. Apparently, I need the fresh air and even fresher company.
- - - - - - -
Oh Great Ruad Rofhessa,
This
-
I scoff and erase it without even attempting to finish the sentence, not caring that I have been at this for three days. That was just redundant.
- - - - - - -
Ruad Rofhessa,
It has come to my attention that you may have been searching for me.
-
This time, the parchment actually ends up in the trash, and I make no attempt to retrieve it. After all, what if the parchment itself is cursed to only contain horribly-worded letters? Surely, that is the only explanation for how horrible my attempts are.
- - - - - - -
It is, unfortunately, not the parchment.
- - - - - - -
Ruad Rofhessa,
I accept that I am an idiot
-
Even as I write it out, I roll my eyes at it, knowing without even having to seriously consider that this attempt is an absolute farce, and I clearly need to take a break if I do not want my eyes to start dripping from my skull at having to witness the extent of my stupidity for so many hours.
- - - - - - -
Ruad Rofhessa,
I write this letter to apologize but
-
It is four days into my attempts at writing a letter with the number of attempts well into triple digits, and though this is not the first time I have been interrupted, this is the first time that I actually have a great paragraph in mind...up until someone knocked on my door, causing me to promptly lose my train of thought.
Before I can even think about it, I get up and swing the door open while snapping, "What?"
Only, it is not Ullr or Veles or Loki or any other vaguely familiar god who dared to interrupt me; it is Hermes. And it is only after I recognize him that I realize that the door I had opened was not the bedroom door but the one to the balcony. Still, I scowl at him, daring - and silently pleading - him to tell me something important enough that I cannot immediately return to my bed to try and chase that paragraph down so I can put it on the new parchment.
"Someone piss in your boots?" Hermes asks, sliding by me to enter my room without my permission. However, since asking permission to enter anywhere seldom applies to messenger gods, especially trickster messenger gods, I ignore this and focus on the fact that he has to be here for some reason.
A very important reason that means I have an excuse to stop staring at parchment for a little while.
"Why are you here?" I ask, far softer now that my anger has been replaced with curiosity and hidden relief. Odin and Loki will understand if I have new, more urgent news to bring them.
Hermes sniffs haughtily, though I can tell that is just an act, and the grin that almost immediately spreads across his face confirms this. "Grumpy and impatient," he teases. After mockingly sniffing the air, he asks, "Were you rubbing one out?"
If he were from just about any other pantheon, I would bring Atlas into this as a means to embarass, but knowing his family, he would likely just find it funny or even appealing if I suggested that I was having dream sex with his uncle. After all, few god families are as inter-married as his. So, I instead settle for a warning, "Hermes."
For a moment, he looks like he has another quip to add, but his grin shortly falters, and he quickly sobers up. "You're my first stop of three tonight, and admittedly, that's only because this pantheon's the easiest to get into," he says, and that is more concerning than most things he could have started with, and not just because it is apparently easy to get into Asgard. I had already figured that his news must be important if he actually came to tell me, but if it is not just for me, then that means it applies to multiple people or pantheons, and that is definitely not good news.
Well, it could have been, but he is not smiling like he would be for a pleasant surprise.
I do not attempt to say anything, as I would much rather he just continue without me risking sidetracking him with a question, and after a moment, he continues. "Zeus is being a real creepy fuck again," he starts, and though it is tempting to point out that that is nothing new, I keep my mouth shut, as he knows this and must have a reason for beginning with that. "That part doesn't pertain to you, though; I just thought you should know."
I grimace and cannot stop myself from asking, "Veles?"
If Zeus knows what is good for him, he will stay away from my student.
"Veles," Hermes confirms, and my grimace deepens into a scowl. "What you need to know, though, is that Zeus has been thinking about you more. And I know this because he has been talking about you more. He has known you were free since however you escaped the statue, but he was willing to ignore it for a time, I think. He didn't mention you outside a fleeting curiosity every few months, and that was usually only because someone brought you up."
Should I be offended or relieved that he all but forgot about me?
"Ever since he found out that you visited Hades, that has changed," Hermes says. I can feel the blood drains from my face, and it is only because Hermes quickly grabs my arm that I do not start swaying. When he continues, there is a promise in his voice that I seldom hear but greatly appreciate. "We accounted for this, Ainmire. Don't worry. He only knows what Hades wants him to know, and he suspects nothing. We did not count on his renewed focus on your imprisonment, though, and that is why I am here to warn you.
"You must not enter the mortal realm," he stresses, gripping my arm tighter, though I cannot tell if that is intentional or not. "I know you seldom go there anyway - and I really don't understand your hatred of all things human - but he has traps there, in places I know not, and some of my siblings are all too eager to see you spring them."
Perhaps it is for the best that he does not know of my longer stints in the mortal realm as a 'human.'
"I will be careful," I reply, and I will also have to make sure to tell the Norse gods to be careful as well. After all, there is no guarantee that this trap is only for me, and gods like Ullr visit the mortal realm fairly frequently.
Hermes releases his tense grip on my arm to pat it a couple times. "Do more than that, Ainmire," he says. "Don't get caught. You won't be escaping this time if you are."
"I'll keep that in mind."
The messenger god huffs in what might be amusement, if he did not just sound tired. "Well," he says, after a beat, "I have two more stops to make and not a whole lot of time to do it in, so I'll leave you to your no good, very bad thoughts."
He pats my arm again while I squint at him in confusion over his parting words, but before I can demand to know what that meant, he is back out of my room and jumping over the balcony railing. Rather than chase after him, though, I just close the door behind him and sit on the edge of my bed, absentmindedly rubbing my arm where he grabbed me. And a moment later, as something begins to build in my mind, I pick up my pen.
-
Ruad Rofhessa,
I write this letter to apologize but also because I have a request to ask of you. I ask this knowing that I have no right to request anything of you, and I ask this knowing that you have more to gain by refusing than you do by accepting for I have not been free long, but I am still aware that our pantheon has gone into hiding and has no intention of fighting the Olympian gods. Yet, I hope that you will challenge our eternal neutrality, that you will take up this fight, and that you will risk our family. Now, you know where I am, though, and I will not move before this letter reaches you, nor will I move as you read this, nor will I move after. You will know precisely where I am, and I write this knowing that you or any other member of our pantheon may retrieve me at the earliest convenience.
Still, I will make my request, and I would be grateful - truly grateful - if you so much as read it, regardless of what you decide in the end. Before I ask what I need to ask of you, however, this is what you must understand. I have been given an opportunity to free the Titans, and by the time I send this to you, I will have been assured by the Titans themselves that this opportunity is free of trickery and lies. It is not without risks, though, as it requires that I travel to Tartarus alone and rely on a god who will not be there should the plan go poorly. For this reason, Odin, son of Bor and Bestla, king of Asgard and my host, requires that I receive your permission, delivered by one of our people with proof of your acceptance. With this, he will support my trip to Tartarus and provide assistance should the plan fail. He will not help otherwise.
So, I ask of you: if you have read my request, please allow me this chance to save the Titans and, more specifically, the love I thought I lost. I swear on all that I hold dear that I will ask of nothing else from you. Just please consider this. I beg of you.
Ainmire
- - - - - - -
Two nights later, I receive the confirmation I have been waiting for, and the next morning, the Norse messenger god, Hermod, leaves Asgard to take my letter to the Dagda as well as a separate letter to Hades, tentatively confirming my participation in his plan. After all, I will have to still be in Asgard by the end of the month for this to actually work. If I am back in the Otherworld or Faerie, it is unlikely that I will ever leave.
[AN: So, please let me know if there are any consistency errors or confusing parts, as I might not always catch those. But otherwise, I hope you are all doing well; have a great week!]