The Journey to Find Mimir

Chapter Thirteen: Alfred is Determined. He Reminds Me of Someone... (It's Me)

Alfred slept for over twenty-four hours straight: through the afternoon and into the evening, then through the following day. This gave me plenty of time to clean both myself and the apartment. I undid my hair, washed out the purple, and put it into braids. I pulled out the trimmer and cleaned up my beard. I ran a load of laundry. I scrubbed the pile of rotting dishes in the sink and cleaned up the mess I made while saving Alfred. His head finally popped out of the tanning bed that evening. I was curled up with a book on the couch. Not that I had actually been reading it. I was really just waiting for him to wake up.

Finally, his eyes blinked open.

"Good evening," I said to him with a smile. "Sleep well?"

He rubbed his face. From the bleary look in his eyes, I could tell he was disoriented. I let him sit there for a moment and wake up a bit. When he came around, the first thing he did was look me up and down. His eyes widened a bit as he took in my braided hair, my freshly trimmed beard and my red silk pajamas with an embroidered "B" on the front pocket. 

"I showered," I said sheepishly. "I promise, I usually don't look like that. Do you want a glass of water?"

He stared at me blankly, then shook his head no. 

"I'm going to get you one, anyway," I said. I needed something to do. I abandoned the book to get him the water, then set the glass at the kitchen table. "You're welcome to join me."

Alfred seemed to be moving in slow motion. He climbed out of the tanning bed (again, his legs are very long) and made his way to the table. Hesitantly, he took a seat. 

The two of us sat in silence. He did not make a grab for a pen. I also wasn't sure what to say. 

Throughout my cleaning spree, a thought had circled in my mind. Runestones required some sort of great personal sacrifice before they could be learned. Odin gave up an eye and hung from the World Tree for nine days before the runestones had shown themselves. I stared at the elf across from me. He looked unharmed. What had he done to get them?

"So, you can use runestones. And you used them to get here," I said. "But where did they come from?"

I had laid a fresh notepad out earlier. He picked up the pen. 

I was in the woods behind my house. I had just finished stacking some rocks. Then they appeared.

He put the pen down and crossed his arms. I tried to catch his eye, but he purposefully kept his head down. Clearly, this was his way of saying: I'm done talking about it. Stacking rocks didn't seem so bad, but I had no plans to press him further. I got his attention by waving a hand in his line of sight.

"Well, welcome to Nidavellir," I said. I gave him my friendliest smile. "Land of dwarves, craftsmanship, mead and maggots."

Silence. He did not make a move to grab the pen. His face was completely wiped of emotion. It was so awkward. I squirmed in my seat. Words started jumping out of my mouth.

"I said maggots because all dwarves evolved from maggots," I blurted out. "We were crawling around in the flesh of the dead giant Ymir. But then some gods came and -- poof! Dwarves."

Silence. 

"Dwarves are proud of the fact that we came from maggots," I rambled. "There's this famous poem-"

Don't say it! my brain screamed.

"-it goes like this.

But when our souls have quit it, and dwarven lives are done --

Bodies born of maggots, back to maggots we become!"

Absolutely nothing. I was sweating.

"I heard you want to find Mimir," I blurted out.