The Winter

Chapter 19

Violence Content Warning!

Is it foolish to think one can defy prophecy?

Sköll heitir ulfr,
Er fylgir inu skírleita goði
Til varna viðar,
En annarr Hati,
Hann er Hróðvitnis sonr,
Sá skal fyr heiða brúði himins.

- Grímnismál stanza 39

Translation:

Skoll is the name of the wolf
Who follows the shining priest
Into the desolate forest,
And the other is Hati,
Hróðvitnir’s son,
Who chases the bright bride of the sky

Chapter 19

These Gods hadn’t spent enough time around wolves.

They stared hard and murmured loud, posturing with heads straight, shoulders back, every marker of challenge in their body language.

The magic in the room didn’t help the situation. The tingling presence awoke my own. My fingers tingled, energy thrumming over my skin as I met each pair of eyes with a passive expression, making sure each time that they looked away first; even if they only looked away to further the gossip flying around the room.

It reminded me of the pack a bit; the way they stood shoulder to shoulder around tables set similarly to back home in the food hall, a solid wall ready to protect. Padded couches like the ones in Ingrid’s chambers lined the walls too, taken up by lounging gods with watchful eyes and smirks playing about their lips as they swirled golden goblets filled with sweet smelling wine.

One thing stood out immediately however. There were no pups. No one looked younger than myself, but I couldn’t trust my eyes to gauge age. Their eyes were the only clue that behind their appearance were ancient beings. Nobody could hide many lifetimes lived from showing in their swirling depths. It was a glint no one human lifetime could gain.

Did my eyes look like that even though I didn’t remember all of my lifetime?

Maybe that was one of the reasons Hati didn’t believe me when I first arrived, maybe that was why he’d suspected I must have been sent by his brother or a god.

Vali slunk away to a distant corner as Hati and I neared the high table. The row of gods staring down at us were all stern faced and impossibly beautiful. In fact, they were impossible full stop. I knew these faces from the stories told to me in my youth. Even after meeting Freyja herself, it felt surreal to see the auburn-haired Thor in all his bulk that threatened to tear the seams of his tunic, and the Tyr with his one hand and steely eyes I swore judged my every move. It was the man stood by Freyja who made my entire body shudder, however.

Hati bristled next to me as one intense blue eye, for the other was covered by a plain leather patch that I’d expected to be gold. Blonde hair was braided and decorated in glittering beads with runes etched into their surface, and his skin glowed a golden hue the same as the spear that rested on the wall behind him.

“Fàilte,” he greeted warmly, no sign of mistrust in his expression as their was on the faces of most of the others.

His use of my native tongue was probably meant to put me at ease, but I felt another icy shiver go up my spine. “All Father.”