When Loki's consort and soulmate marries his rival to save their son from a curse, a prophecy leads to consequences even the God of Chaos couldn't predict.
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The Unseelie Goddess of War's revenge against Asgard's Dark Prince puts him in a no-win s...
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The trip back to the Summer Realm still took the two full days, but was fortunately uneventful. One month remained before Aidan's birthday. I couldn't focus on that or the fear became paralyzing. After finding Maeve and telling her what I'd learned of the prophecy while we sparred, she agreed with Scota that my great uncle was the best possibility to figure out the meaning.
"Come. I'll introduce you to Amaethon. He's been on Vanaheim of late, but returned shortly after you left to see Scota," Maeve said. Leaving the sparring ring, she led me back through the trees. Climbing several sets of stairs and crossing along the hanging walkways between them, we came to what appeared to be shops interspersed amongst tree branches.
There was a wide array of businesses selling everything from casual clothes to more elaborate tailors and dress-makers, shoes, boots, jewelery artisans, weapons-makers, home furnishings, kitchenware, herbalists, spell-weavers, and numerous types of eating and drinking establishments. Elves of all shapes and descriptions crowded the walkways, shops, and spilled out of doorways. Conversation, tinkling laughter, and raucous shouts filled the air.
Following Maeve as she wove her way through the crowds with a smile, laugh, kisses, and deliberate caresses of various body parts, it was easy to see her popularity. Although she introduced me to some, the faces and names began to blur as we moved along. There were just too many for me to remember.
Indeed, personal space didn't seem to be a thing with these elves as they moved amongst one another, pushing, sliding, and groping their way through the throng. If I hadn't noticed it all around me as a regular occurrence, I would have voiced my objection at the constant touching of strange hands and bodies. They seemed to think nothing of copping a feel or grinding against me as we passed. Those that Maeve introduced me to tended to kiss me as well. It was flustering to deal with a culture that was so forward and touchy compared to the way I'd been raised on Earth.
Yet oddly, the contact didn't seem to be entirely sexual in nature. Nor was it gender-biased. I was just as likely to be groped by a female as a male elf. It certainly wasn't personal as the hand that grabbed my breast went on to stroke the chest of the male beside me. No, instead, it seemed to be more about the touching itself. I'd gotten used to the mild shock that occurred whenever I made contact with another Sidhe, but in this crowd, it was like having a constant low-level charge tickling over my skin.
Was the point? I'd noticed the small energy transfer seemed to be larger depending on the power level of the elf in question. Certainly it was stronger at the points of contact, before diffusing across the rest of my body. Perhaps that explained the seemingly sexual locations as the charge created a pleasant buzz focused on the pleasure centres, like the tingle of arousal. It dissipated as soon as the contact was lost, but it did make for interesting sensations as we continued to make our way down the busy walkway.
Reaching a doorway of what I guessed was a tavern, given the sign, "The Hissing Dryad", Maeve ushered me inside. Less busy than the crowded walkway, softly glowing lights twinkled in overhead branches. Patrons filled most of the circular tables and chairs, eating, drinking and playing games with coloured stones, twelve-sided carved dice, and wooden rectangles with symbols. I recognized some as the strategy-based games that Frigga had been teaching me. Others, especially those with the dice, seemed to be games of chance.
