Your Hand To Hold

Chapter Ten: Resurgence

 April 6th, 2012

               "Again!" Sif demanded, standing over me; sword pointed at my throat.

   I laid there, Loki's old tunic soaked to my chest as I looked up at her with a groan. "Sif, please... Show some mercy..."

   "You will not find mercy on the battle ground when the time comes, now get up. We shall go again." I whined loudly, punching the sky before flopping back down once more.

   As the weather had warmed, Sif had convinced Thor to allow her to take over my combat training; primarily because she had wanted to see how I would fare with her double-bladed sword. So far, the answer had been not well. Still, she had refused to give up on me, though I was beginning to think she had only demanded to take over to keep me from Thor on the off chance I had been less than truthful in my lack of interest.

   Despite our growing friendship, there was still a line of distrust that distanced us. The line had been drawn by her and cultivated by me as more of her misdeeds towards Loki had been revealed. Though I had not meant to, I had chosen one of Loki's tunics over a month ago to wear for our practice, having not had any armor of my own to don nor anything suitable to wear for such activities. While Fandral had teased me when I had shown up once in a simple apron dress, the embarrassment that had followed when Thor knocked me to the ground moments later had been enough to have me searching for something else to wear and quickly agreeing to Sif's takeover.  The tunic had irritated and distracted her, making it easier that day to overpower her as she had spent her time cursing him instead of focusing on me. As such, I had worn one of the four I had each day in hopes of continuing to annoy her to my benefit. Sadly, the effect had only lasted two weeks and by then one was so tattered that Frigga had offered to not only find additional ones for me but to request armor of my own be made.

   "I said on your feet, Dog Girl," Sif called, chucking an apple from a nearby tree at me.

   "I yield, you have won for today."  

   "No, no," she rebuked, sending another apple sailing my way, laughing when it became lodged between my breasts. "And this is why I thank the gods I was not as blessed as you, or perhaps I should say cursed with such blessings."

   "Yes, yes, yes," I groaned, tossing the apple aside as I rose. "Any other comments regarding my soft physique?"

   "If Sif has none, I can surely think of some!" I turned to find Fandral coming toward us, Hogun in stride. Both carried sickles, their furs gone as the sun beat down on us. I smiled, turning toward him with a wave as he came closer to ruffle my hair while Hogun hung back still, offering me a short and simple nod. "How goes practice today, ladies? I trust you are being gentle with my fair lady?"

"I am always fair. It's part of my charm."

"I meant her." Sif rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue as Fandral just laughed. "Any progress Eibhlin?"

   "Still struggling," I admitted as I spun the sword, pressing the hidden notch to release the second blade. I groaned in frustration as the blade spun away, landing in the dirt as the additional weight of the second blade redistributed the balance off center in my unpracticed hands.

   Fandral pulled it up, disengaging the second blade as he handed it to me. "You will get it. Just keep trying." Over the last few months, he had become one of my closest friends, perhaps second only to Thor. I genuinely enjoyed his company, both on and off the training court, though his flirtatious manner often left something to be desired. "If you ladies require a rest, we are off to gather more daffodils and tulips for Sunday's festivities and I believe they need more hands in the kitchens with the chocolate flettekrans, Eibhlin."

   "I promised Hlíf I would come by this afternoon to help."

   "Excellent well then. We shall continue on our way before Queen Frigga happens to find us 'lazing about' again. She seems to think we make excellent errand boys now that there's nothing to fight."

   "Oh yes, the most dashing of errand boys." I laughed softly, shaking my head as they continued on their way until I noticed something odd. "Wait, where's Volstagg?"

   "He had to fill his stomach first," Hogun sighed. Sif and I exchanged a laugh before she had me try again.

   By the time I returned to my room to wash and change to fulfill my promise to Hlíf, my hands were blistered and bleeding. I pressed them together, closing my eyes as I focused my energy into them, the cuts disappearing along with the broken blisters as the blue shimmer swirled around me. It was a simple task now to heal others, but to spot heal myself took focus. With a sigh, I removed Loki's tunic and set it in my washing basin to hand wash before bed as I did every night. I washed away the dirt and sweat from my arms, abdomen and face before I peeled the leather pants I'd had made from my legs and wiped the sweat away. After hanging the pants and changing the water, I washed a second time before dabbing myself with the champaca oil I had come across in the apothecary while attempting to find the evergreen scent that lingered on Loki's tunics still. I had been disappointed not to come across it, finally giving up two months prior as I'd cursed his memory while telling him he could keep his secrets.

   The first time Thor had heard me 'talking' to Loki's memory, he had thought I was ill and dying. After both Eir, the head healer, had explained that such things were a normal part of the grieving process, he had turned his attention to asking if it helped. I would have been remiss to tell him that it did, yet I could not lie to him either and say that it had no effect. Over time, I began to stumble upon him walking through the gardens 'talking' to both Loki and Jane, though his conversations with her seemed more a rehearsal than anything else.

   It had been a year and ten months since Thor had shattered the rainbow bridge, a year and ten months since Loki had chosen to fall into the abyss of Bifróst energy... It was normal to find a new pattern, to grow, to continue forward, or so I was continuously told. Yet I still felt guilty every now and again for doing so. Deep seeded regret still held me hostage each time I thought about how I had never known that the growing love I carried for him existed, nor that he returned it in some small fashion. I wanted to believe that returned or not, he would want me to continue to make a place for myself, to continue fighting to make Asgard a better place in a less destructive way now that he was gone. While I would never be able to make Odin proud, I could at least make Loki proud wherever he may be.

   I tied a new strophium around my chest, making sure to allow some movement after the last one had been tied so tightly to hold my breasts in place as I trained with Sif that it had begun to cut into me, and pulled out my favorite kitchen dress. It was a simple brown linen sleeveless dress with the most beautiful green and gold embroidery long the neckline and hem. The cream-colored tunic I normally wore beneath it to hide the scars on my back and shoulders had the same embroidery along the neckline and cuffs. Dressing quickly, I pulled my boots back on and hurried to the kitchens, braiding my hair back as I went.


             Hlíf was just about to plop into a chair beside the large oak table we used to knead breads and pastry shells on when I entered, smiling at the flour dusting her cheek. "Afternoon Hlíf."

   "Afternoon indeed; you're late." I gave her soft side glance as I grabbed a stack of bread stones, carrying them with far less difficulty than I had prior to beginning my training with Thor. "Good gracious, child! I shall have to call you the Warrior Baker henceforth." She thanked me as I set one in front of her as she slid a bowl of dough towards her and grabbed a pre-rolled ball to knead and flatten for fillings.

   "You shall indeed. How go the Påske preparations? I heard that Frigga has put even the Warriors Three to use." I pulled a ball out and began to follow suit as a young girl named Astrid brought over another bowl of filling and a second one of the candied oranges. She stealthily managed to steal a sample, popping it into her mouth before Hlíf could notice. I winked at her as she pressed her finger to her lips and took a bit of chocolate as well before she fluttered away.

    "Idle hands, dearest. I think she worries of the trouble those boys would get into if allowed to laze about for too long. Bad as it sounds, I do place some blame on the departed prince."

   "The blame should fall to Odin," I grumbled bitterly as I sprinkled the crumbled chocolate over the coca and cardamom paste.

   Hlíf sighed as she rolled her filled dough into a tightly packed cylinder to be cut in half for the braiding. "I will not pretend to understand where your feelings lie, nor attempt to claim that any such affections existed between the two of you as rumors claim-"

   "Thank you."

   "But," she continued, giving me a side eye of her own for interrupting; "I will say that the fault does not belong on only the shoulders of one. Many mistakes were made with the young prince, on all of our parts; myself included. Still, we loved him as we could."

   I sighed and nodded, slicing my own roll into halves. I passed them to Hlíf, the superior braider, who slid me her finished braid to twist into a circle for baking. No sooner had I slid the baking stone aside, a young boy with auburn hair ran up and grabbed it, carefully carrying it to Frode who looked down at him with a great amount of pride as he took the stone and placed it into the oven. I smiled, at least one thing had not changed; the kitchens were still a well-timed machine under Hlíf's grey eyed watch.

   "So, tell me, has the queen shown you your dress yet?" I shook my head. "I know it may ruffle some feathers, but I did suggest that you would look quite nice in a burgundy. I think you had a dress in such a color like the one you have on now when only your nose could reach this table."

   "I was never so small."

   "You were too, and skinny! Still a wonder how you managed to grow into, well that," she said making an exaggerated hourglass shape with a wave of her hands. I rolled my eyes at her, trading rolls with her once more as the same little boy came over to wait for collection. While Hlíf continued to work as she shared memories of my childhood, I slid the bowl of chocolate crumbles towards the boy who grinned widely and took a few pieces, before he hurried off with the next flettekrans meant for the ovens. "I saw that."

   "You see everything."

   "Have to; you think this kitchen would run as tightly if I didn't?"

   I laughed softly, rising to get another bowl of sweet filling paste from the women hastily making copious amounts of it between chopping up more bits of chocolate and candied oranges.  "Burgundy, hmm? You do not think it would be too dark for Påske?"

   "Never said it had to be for Påske. Yellow or bronze; and would you speed up a bit? I have seventy more of these to make!"

   "If you want perfection, and I know you do, it cannot be rushed," she scoffed but nodded. "Both would work for Påske... Though I am growing tired of wearing such things."

   She sighed, taking a break for a moment from braiding to shake out her fingers and fill a few more flettekrans to be. "It's still new, that's all. You'll get used to it, just as you adjusted to life here after everything that happened to you on Midgard. You'll continue to make your own path as you always have," I paused for only a moment, my hesitation quickly picked up by her motherly senses as she reached over, patting my hand. "I remember when Frigga first brought you to me, all limbs with that wild hair and those ears; thought you were a true little demon, I did. You proved me wrong though and I remember the pride we all felt seeing you walk down that aisle with Loki and Frigga, held head high and so lovely. You were never meant for this kitchen, child; not that you don't hold your own. It's just that we've all always believed you were suited for so much more, so much better. I have faith you'll get there, on your own time."

   A heavy breath escaped me as I felt my eyes mist for the first time in a long while as I smiled gratefully back to her. "What if I can't... What if I cannot find my path again?"

   She tilted my chin up, her thumb wiping away the tear that had managed to roll down my cheek. "Then you'll forge a new path. That's the beauty of being lost in the woods, dearest; there's nothing but paths to choose from."