The Allmother
Chapter 7: The Allmother
When You had finally finished your first day of work with lord Skírnir, you felt relieved it had gone rather well, despite being attacked, having dinner with the prince and lord Skírnir confusing you to oblivion. You still felt like it could have gone worse. So did lord Blekk think when you went back to him to discuss the day. He listened carefully and even showed anger when you told him about the servant, yet he too felt uncomfortable with the idea of prince Loki taking an interest in you.
“Be careful whom you place your trust in, Svinnr. The prince didn’t receive his various titles on a whim, no, he earned them. I am remember all his different shenanigans and though some were harmless others were not. He destroyed quite a few friendships and made everyone else weary of him. He also keeps mostly to himself and that’s what frightens most: the fact that they don’t know what he’s up to.”
“Thank you for telling me this, my lord. I will be vigilant around him, yet I must say that he seemed genuinely concerned about my welfare.”
“I wasn’t there so I can’t speak of the honesty of the prince in this situation, but to speak from my own personal experience, honesty is not a trait the prince is known for.” He said soberly. “I don’t wish to scare you, dear, I just feel like you ought to know. Now, I’m sure you’re very tired, so why don’t you go to the servant-wing to sleep?” He offered and your heart warmed a bit as you realised he was making an effort to take your mind slightly off the prince.
“Thank you, my lord and I bid you a good night’s rest.” You said with a curtsy and left the archives with Egil to go back to the servant-wing. Egil was rather quiet, but you blamed it on the whole situation that had occurred and remained silent. In all honesty, you were also too tired to talk about it. When you finally left him at the door of the servant-wing so he could go back to his own sleeping place, you were pinned down by so many disapproving gazes. Some of the maids even looked ready to pounce on you at any given moment.
“Don’t you people have something better to do?” Called Djúpvitr as she approached you and placed herself in front of you, challenging the others to say or do something. Some of them turned away while others now looked at the both of you with murderous glares.
“I’ve heard your friend has caused Thyri to be flogged by her own master.” A servant you only vaguely knew, said.
“Thyri probably got herself in trouble by her foolishness which is her own goddamn fault.” Djúpvitr said with venom dripping from every word.
“She had lord Fandral’s favour! Why would he do such a thing to her?” Another servant piped up. “Prince Loki ordered it and I’ve heard from Tola who spoke to Hildirid who overheard Asvor and Svan talking that the prince only did so because he was bewitched by her!” She said while pointing at you.
“Oh? Svinnr is a witch now? This story just gets better and better! Next you’re going to tell me that prince Thor is in fact a Bilgesnipe with stomach ache who was transformed into a prince by kissing the luscious lips of our very own Svinnr.” Djúpvitr said dramatically. The servant who had spoken huffed but remained quiet. “Instead of coming to your own stupid conclusions like cackling dumb hens, why don’t you listen to whatever Svinnr has to say, huh? Isn’t that an idea?”
“They clearly don’t want to hear it, Djúpvitr, but thanks for standing up for me.” You told your friend who was still fuming with anger. “I will tell you though.” You whispered and dragged Djúpvitr to your bed to sit down. You then told the whole story while the servants closest to you either huffed, got up and left or stayed quiet and did nothing at all.
“Shit, Svinnr. This is bad.” Djúpvitr said and to your surprise she had a pained expression on her face. Normally she would spawn her opinion everywhere and you had definitely thought she would be excited to hear your story, but this pained and dulled out expression made your stomach turn.
“What’s wrong, Djúpvitr?” You asked, almost too afraid to hear the answer.
“Svinnr, attracting attention is all some of these brainless maids want, but not where the dark prince is concerned. No one wants to gain his favour, no one. Sure, he has had several maids before, but there’s a reason why you never hear from them. While all of them brag about being bedded by prince Thor, no one ever does so with prince Loki. Not much is known about him, only that chaos follows him wherever he goes. I do not want you to find yourself in such a situation. He’s a dangerous man and now that he knows your name and has helped you, he will remember and I don’t think that means anything good for you.” Djúpvitr warned and you sighed.
“Lord Blekk said something similar. That I should not trust him, but still I cannot help but feel grateful he was there. He helped me while otherwise that maid might have seriously injured me.”
“Yes, well, don’t expect him to care.”
“But, Djúpvitr, he… he told me that if ever there was something amiss I could go to him and he would put a stop to it.” You said and Djúpvitr looked at you again with that pained expression.
“Asked you or ordered you? Has it ever occurred to you that he would say something like that to make you dependant on him? He wants you to go to him to manipulate you into trusting him. You’re a pretty girl, Svinnr, he might be more subtle than Fandral, but he’s still a man. I believe they want the same thing, only they have different ways of getting it. He wants you to come willingly to him, I’m sure of it.” She said and a shiver ran down your spine.
What if Djúpvitr was right and you were already being played by the prince? What if he was such a master of emotions that he was able to send false signals, making you believe he was being genuine, while in reality…. This was getting too much for you to process.
“I’m really tired, Djúpvitr. Let’s stop talking about the prince and turn in for the night?” Djúpvitr nodded but still looked rather solemn. That night you hardly got any sleep and the following day would be a restless one too.
“You look awful, girl.” Lord Skírnir told you as soon as you walked into his study the following day. “That’s what no sleep does to someone.” You thought gloomy. “Have you already eaten something girl?” He asked and you shook your head. “You can have the rest of my breakfast, but this will be the only time I allow it.” He said with an angry undertone. You quickly shoved the leftovers in your face and swallowed it down with a glass of milk before turning to your little desk to begin your work. “Once you’re done with sending out the invites, I want you to go to my future wife to pen down all of her desires.” Lord Skírnir said.
“Yes, my lord.” You said and began your work.
After an hour or two you realised just how big this wedding was going to be. The list of invites from Asgard alone was already too much, but when you saw the one from Alfheim your hand began to ache just by looking at all the names. Eventually lord Skírnir told you, you could leave the one from Vanaheim and Alfheim for the next day, so that you could spent your remaining day with his wife. You felt relieved. Spending hours bent over a desk scribbling away the same thing over and over again turned out to be rather a dull affair, so this would be something different.
Only, the future wife turned out to be an absolute brat that thought of you as her personal slave. Her idea of a dress was borderline insane and you felt bad for whoever had to make it. The colour theme also sounded weird with the bride and bridesmaids dressed in raspberry pink dresses or something similar and the groom with his closest friends in shades of mint green or darker. The food that she wanted to have served also sounded strange in your ears with dishes you had never heard of and when you asked about them, the bride either huffed in frustration or explained in detail what it was and how it was cooked. Most of it was very traditional and made your stomach turn, so you refrained from asking any more questions concerning the food. Eventually the bride needed a break and decided to go and visit the other highborn ladies in the queen’s tearoom. Svala Arfastdottir took you with her and showed you off as some sort of priced horse while all the other ladies praised her on her new servant even though you weren’t hers to begin with.
“She can read and write as well and helps my future husband with the arrangement of our wedding.” The other women gasped and told her of their jealousy for such a valuable servant. Some even dropped that title and called you a slave. You had to endure all of their ridiculous banter and dull conversations with clenched teeth until a friendly voice woke you out of your angry trance.
"I really need to get my anger under control." You thought. "It will kill me one day, I’m sure."
“What’s your name, girl?” A beautiful woman with golden hair and warm blue eyes asked with a smile.
“Svinnr, my lady.” You said and for some reason you mimicked her smile and felt surprisingly at ease.
“No! Bad, girl!” Lady Svala said as she screeched at you like you were a dog that had done something wrong. “I’m sorry, my queen, she hasn’t been properly trained yet.” She said addressing the beautiful woman who chuckled slightly.
“Oh, Norns!” You pretty much mentally slapped yourself. “First I don’t recognise the dark prince and now the queen!”
“No need for apologies, lady Svala. I’m sure the girl meant well.”
“I apologise, my queen.” You said when the queen looked back up at you.
“No harm done, Svinnr.” She said with that warm smile once more. “Now tell me, where might I have heard that name before?”
“I… I am lord Blekk’s new help.” You stated and you could see lady Svala bristling in the corner of your eyes as the other ladies looked at her with amused expressions.
“Ah, I see. And how did you come into lady Svala’s service?” She asked and you beamed at her. You knew what the queen was doing and it delighted you all the more.
“Lord Blekk has struck an accord with lord Skírnir where I would help him with the arrangements for his wedding.” You said proudly, but couldn’t help but add something for good measure. “After that I will return back to lord Blekk’s service at the archives.” The look of embarrassment on lady Svala’s face was definitely worth it, but the look the queen gave you was even better. She looked both parts delighted and mischievous as if she was silently praising you for catching up so quickly.
“Oh, how wonderful and where are you from, dear?” She asked.
“I was born in Elvekjøtt, a small village at the banks of the Fosselv on Vanaheim. But my parents, being weavers, decided to move back to Asgard to start a new business here.” You quickly summarised.
“Have you been here long then, child?”
“About thirty years now, my queen.” You said sadly and then quickly changed your expression, but the queen had already seen the sadness.
“You miss it.” It wasn’t even a question.
“I do, my queen.” You then realised who you were complaining about. “Not to say that Asgard isn’t beautiful and great.” You all but squealed out like a mouse.
“Don’t worry, my dear. I spend most of my life on Vanaheim as well and I still miss the golden fields and the azure lakes.” She said and your love for the queen grew with every passing second.
“Where are you from, my queen?” You asked excitedly before you could hold your own tongue. In the meanwhile the ladies at the table darted their eyes from the queen to you and back, not sure how to feel about this kind of friendly conversation between their queen and a mere servant.
“I was born at the palace actually. You see, king Njörðr was named king by the court of high nobles, but before his reign my father acted as its king. The name Fjörgynn may ring a bell?” You nodded. You had read about him before, once or twice. “My father is still to this day the longest reigning king in all the nine realms, although I must say my husband has made it a point to take that place for himself.” The ladies all giggled at that, while you regarded the queen with pure fascination. “Will king Njörðr attend the wedding, Svala?” The queen suddenly asked lady Svala who had been left to choke on her bitterness.
“I believe my husband intends to invite him, just as he will prince Frey.” She said.
“Oh, then I better pray to the Norns that he won’t give Thor any ideas on going on some kind of dangerous adventure.” The queen said with a warm smile and again all the ladies giggled. You even found yourself smirking as well. You had read quite a few letters prince Frey had sent lord Skírnir to brag about his conquests back on Alfheim. You had even been allowed to reply to one of them because lord Skírnir deemed it unimportant.
“What has you smiling so, my dear?” The queen asked and you felt your cheeks redden instantly. You quickly glanced at lady Svala, but she was looking disinterested at her glass.
“I… Lord Skírnir had me read some letters to respond to some of them. And I was allowed to write one back to the prince.” You answered timidly and felt your cheeks redden even more if that was even possible. All eyes were on you before the queen smirked mischievously.
“What did you talk about?” She asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Prince Frey was telling a vivid story about winning a bet with his master of the treasury and now he owns the prince a horse and a new bow. I praised the prince on winning the bet and even suggested to request a Mirkwood bow, given that they were used in the days of old by the light elves of Ljósálfheimr.” You said with a smile.
“I’m actually looking forward to his reply.” You added a bit nervously, but still proud that you had the courage to say so out loud. The queen smiled happily at your excitement and free way of speaking. She even had a warm glint in her eyes as if they were filled with adoration and affection.