Shifting as the Goddess

The mirror reflects the image of a waterfall made from cloth, beads of glass and gemstones fracturing under the low light of your dressing room. The gown had appeared on the back of the door as you entered to select what to wear to fit the theme of tonight’s festivities, hanging on a thickly padded wire wrapped in silk. The jewels that dawn your neck and arms had appeared as well, though they put themselves on as you turned to look at yourself in the mirror.

The blues and navies of the fabric chase themselves around your body, leaving space for the teardrop shaped opals and sapphires to imitate the cascades of water in the wind. Your hair lays almost wet on your head, slipping onto your shoulders which are near bare in the draping fabric. You straighten your back watching in the mirror how only jewels find their way to your face, few in numbers just below your eyes, the blue a stark contrast to your skin.

As you turn the handle to exit to your room, a flash of pearls scatters over your dress and fall from your ears. They move in step with you, the foam of the sea at your feet and weaved into your hair.

Your exit is met with a nearly unnoticeable sigh from the God before you, draped in his own envy to the water. “Goddess, you honor the spirits well tonight.” He straightens his stance and bows to you, a smile hidden in his brow.

You return the gesture, “Only to give you the justification of allowing me to join you in the entrance to such an event.”

“Goddess,” he tuts, “a justification is not needed as it is an honor.” Loki offers you his arm once more and guides you to the court hall.

Two guards stand on either side of the entrance to the banquet as you approach, one steps towards you.

“One moment,” the left bows, “Allow us to gather the bellman to announce your arrival.”

You giggle softly to yourself and Loki looks at you with a puzzled expression. “It's been quite a long time since I had a proper introduction to anything.” You explain.

He hums, “Yes, I could imagine that is the truth. Goddess,” he begins, “would you allow me the honor of presenting you to the court upon entry?”

“Present me?” You ask, “Is that not what the bellman is for?”

“Not truly,” he says, “he will announce us for entry, get everyone’s attention, however the walk to Odin’s seat shall be where you are presented.”

“I do not wish to be presented to Odin.” You tilt your head and pull away from him slightly.

Loki’s mouth opens to respond but is cut off by the returning guard, “We will open the doors when you are ready, Your Majesty, My Goddess.” He offers a bow to each of your names, but you turn back to Loki.

“Loki, I do not wish to be presented; I simply wish to attend this gathering by your side tonight.”

“This matter is not up to you,” he shakes his head softly, “Goddess, the court will either present you themselves or I can upon entry.”

You huff, “What is the purpose of being presented, why must more attention come from an entry?” You release his arm and turn away from the door, gathering a breath.

“This is the first time the public will be in company with you, the first true time the court will.” Loki follows you, standing at your side as you gaze into the courtyard below. “It is not up to us, Goddess. The only decision to be made in regards to your presentation is who pedestals you.”

Your eyes close in thought, a silent moment resting between your shoulders and Loki’s. “It would be inappropriate for you to present me.”

Loki’s chin shifts down, “I apologize if I-”

“As a pedestal does not separate us.” You cut him off, gaze remaining on the garden.

He looks to you, “Goddess,” he chuckles, “that simply isn't true. There are multiple reasons as to why it would be inappropriate for me to present you, and I apologize for suggesting that I might. However, to be as arrogant to say we are equals is simply an insult.”

“To who?” You turn to him and ask once more in his silence, “To whom is the insult branded upon when I refer to you as my equal, Loki?”

His lips push into themselves and flatline, his chin raising itself level. “The court will not stand for us entering as equals, Goddess. It is as elementary as the way the bellman will announce us. I will be myself, and you shall be Goddess. You lack further explanation as none is needed here, You are above my holdings and above any other in that room.”

“Court included.” You retort as you turn towards the doors, waving to the doorman to begin their duties. You stand in the archway of the door as you hear the bellman call to the room, beginning his announcement of your entrance. You call back to Loki, “Must I enter alone now that you’ve done nothing more than insult yourself or will you allow me your arm?”

You hear Loki release a hard sigh, most likely accompanied by a swift shake of his head, as three strides bring him back to your left side, his arm out for you to take. You squeeze it and look up at him, “Loki, you are my equal. In each step we have taken in these halls each morning, I stand by your side. I shall remain by your side in this hall on this night, and for those yet to come.”

Before Loki can respond, the doors to the court are pushed to their full span and you are ushered in. A hand in the nook of Loki’s arm provides the stability you need to allow your feet to enter a room of hushed faces looking at you, though first they trace Loki.

With a knot in your stomach your eyes find nothing other than the god on your arm, too aware of the turning heads. Loki looks down to you, placing his hand on yours and nods an assurance before looking straight ahead again. You follow his gaze and find his mother, his source of anchor in this entrance; his source of calm for each step he takes towards Odin and a court who adore to reprimand him.

You allow your eyes to fall to Frigga as well, her proud and welcoming smile drawing you closer down the lengthy room. As you get halfway into the hall, you look up to the paintings on the ceiling and your eyes slowly find their way about the people in the room in your journey to the Allfather. You see all people present, all dressed in blue.

The cloth sea ripples as whispers are shared amongst the guests, turning and leaning to get better views and worse opinions. Warriors clad in gear dyed in a sky blue, the healers out of their brown linen and in a seafoam green. The range of tints ease the anxiety in your step. As you gather closer to the seat of Odin, Loki’s hand still atop of yours begins to gather your fingers in his own and slows his pace. He attempts to present you, to allow you to continue ahead of him as an extension of his arm but you mirror him.

You fold your left hand in his right and slow, side stepping as he does. You present him as he presents you; a crease of worry, the only indication of anxiety on his face, makes you crack into a cocky smile. You bow deeply to the God of Mischief, stopped in front of the Allfather, and the god bows to you.

You both stand, arms still connected in the space between you as you both acknowledge the Mother with a small bow. You watch Loki as he bows to Odin, your eyes the only moving thing as the Allfather stares at you from his golden seat. A small nod is Thor’s greeting from both of you before Loki guides you in a circle around him, your dress rippling as the waves.

You realize he is now presenting you, though it is not to the court. Loki presents you to the people, the one's he truly wanted to present you to, as told by the soft smile on his face as he watches you let go of his hand and nearly kneel to the kingdom of Asgard.

“The Goddess,” booms Odin from his seat, announcing you once more to the people below him.

The silence is broken by a group of small girls, smiles wider than their eyes, gasping and clapping in giggles. The rest of the people in the room join them in their celebrations along with a few gleeful hollers from groups of soldiers. You laugh as you stand, returning to Loki’s arm, music and chatter picking back up as the floor fills itself once more.

You allow Loki to guide you to the right side of Odin’s throne towards the banquet tables that are lined with plates of food.

“Did we miss the meal?” You ask Loki, worried as hunger pains in your side.

He smiles to you in laughter, “We did not. There is no big feast until the last evening of the celebrations, however food is always warm and ready on the sides of the room. Tonight is for dancing.” His crooked smile takes over his face, though he turns away from you at the sound of another man.

“Tonight is indeed the night for dancing!” A man shorter than Loki with blond hair steps beside him, joining your conversation. He is soon followed by three more people, including Thor.

“My brother is anything but amature at dancing, you must steal him for a turn.” Thor winks at you and you laugh in chorus with the taller redhead in the company of soldiers.

“How can she possibly steal him if he never lets her go! You know better, Thunder.” Thor’s shoulder is smacked with the same force he greets others with and he smiles as he stumbles a bit, attempting to not spill his drink on the woman beside him.

She rolls her eyes, “The lot of you seem to be lacking any proper social graces, which is not surprising, but we are in company of The Goddess.”

You cringe in a smile, “Please don't correct them, I’ve had quite enough of the minimal social graces I’ve been exposed to this evening. I’d quite enjoy the remainder of the evening to be filled with nothing but outrageously ungraceful social interactions.”

She smiles and nods, “At the very least allow us introductions.”

You look quickly to Loki, hoping to have a side remark on how you already know the people standing in front of you but shut yourself down in remembrance. Looking back at the woman and nod and allow the line in front of you to introduce themselves.

She crosses an arm over her blue-armored chest and bows curtly, “I am Lady Sif, Goddess of War.”

You smile and return the nod, “Lady Sif.”

“I,” the blond man steps forward and takes your hand, “am Fandal the Dashing.” He raises a brow and smirks, bowing to your hand before releasing it.

You feel Loki slightly tense under your hand, though it's released when you laugh. “Hello, Fandral,” you nod.

The ginger-bearded man straightens his shoulders and repeats the same nod Sif displayed, “Volstagg the Enormous, a pleasure.”

You nod another smile, “Volstagg.” You turn only to find Thor, you pan your head back and forth once before questioning, “I could have sworn I have seen another in your party before. Have I lost my wits?”

Thor answers in his booming voice, “Ah yes, you speak of Hogun the Grim. A very mighty warrior as well. Sadly our friend was unable to make it to tonight’s festivities after a sparring session with Lady Sif.”

You raise your brows to Sif, “Oh?”

“As if it were no fault of his own,” She huffs, “It’s not as if he would have much fun tonight, anyhow. Hogun has three left feet and moves as if a dagger is in his side.”

A laugh erupts from your chest and the others join in, Loki looks up as a dance is announced.

Volstagg is first to ask, “Goddess, would you care to join me in this dance before the silver snake here guards you as his own for the evening?”

You giggle, “Well that would be very impossible to do, as I am no one’s to be guarded. Though, I must warn that I am not particularly skilled in dancing.”

He winks, “Don't fret, Goddess, I can handle that.”

You shake your head and smile, winking at Loki as you squeeze his arm before letting go.

Volstagg takes your hand in his and walks you among the other couples waiting for the strings to begin their piece. An inhale fills your chest with anxiety at the thought of people watching you trip over your own feet or the fabric of your dress.

“Allow me?” Volstagg’s hands rest one above your waist and another mid air, an invitation.

“Of course,” you nod. Though, instead of simply laying his hand on your waist, he guides your feet onto his. Your toes stepping on his as you laugh, “Is this alright, then?”

“Very,” he assures you, “It’s how I taught Sif to dance as well.” Volstagg winks at you again and you both begin moving as the music begins, spinning slowly about the room.

Every once in a while you capture the frame of Loki’s face watching as Volstagg sways you left and right, turning you every so often in step with the rest of the people around you. He even dares having you step off of his toes and spins you under his hand, a laugh leaving your chest when he pulls you back in to ensure your safety from yourself.

Volstagg laughs down at you as the piece begins to slow, “You are not as horrible as you have led me to believe, Goddess.”

You shrug, “Perhaps I led myself to believe that as well.”

You stay moving with Volstagg around the floor until he begins speaking again.

“They introduced you as The Goddess, but had stopped before specifying your role. May I ask you what that is?” he asks.

You look up at him in the slow sway of thought, “Truly I’m not sure it can be more specific. Though,” you admit, ” ’The Goddess’ is so outrageously formal, it makes my stomach turn.”

“Ah,” he hums, “then what shall we call you for our evening of outrageously ungraceful social interactions?”

You knit your brows and knead your lips together, “I’m unsure, honestly.”

“Do you have a name, Goddess?” Volstagg spins you again causing another giggle and smile to break out on your face.

“Technically,” you nod, “I have many.”

Volstagg tuts, “So very mysterious, Goddess.”

“Of course, how can one keep company with gods and allow every detail to be in the wind?”

“Fair point.” He nods as the piece comes to an end. Volstagg steps back, your hand in his, and bows to you, as you to him.

You smile and he guides you back across the room where the rest of your party stands. Just before reaching full earshot of the rest of them, Volstagg stutters his steps and leans to you to say, “Thank you for teaching me to dance, Goddess.”

You smile and squeeze his hand, stepping towards the group as he guides you.