Frida

Chapter 30 - Ragnardottir

The pain was washing over her in waves, and she did not know how long she would be able to climb the bridge.

She clawed her fingers into the cold stones that she was crawling over, and she kept her eyes on the white entrance that she could barely make out on the other side. It felt like her stomach ripped open, like the skin of her thighs cracked and bled, leaving a trail of ghostly red flowers after her. When the bright light started disappearing, Frida's mind went wild. She felt panic wash over her as darkness surrounded her slowly, like a wolf encircling its pray, calculating when to attack.

She wanted to scream from her black drowning, but when she opened her mouth, nothing left her dry lips. She pushed herself to reach the entrance, because she knew that she had to, but she was going to slow. She was never going to make it.

Frida felt her body trembling heavily when the dark reached her, and she felt like she could hear people shouting beneath her, but their voices were distant and distorted. It sounded like hell was right there under her, like the screams were from the tortured men and women who never redeemed themselves during their lives on earth, forever cursed to burn in the dark pits of the underworld between demons and confounded souls.

But then she saw her.

Not many feet away from her stood the goddess, her goddess, in long silky ropes and shimmering jewels, reaching out her hand for Frida to take. But Frida was still weak, the darkness still paralyzed her, and she cried out helplessly with tears streaming down her cheeks that fell upon the cold floor beneath her, making the stones crumble.

The goddess did not move closer to her, but she held her hand out for her still, smiling down upon her with a calm light in her eyes. Her lips were crimson, the color of the blood pumping desperately in Frida's veins, and her skin was white as snow, her hair a creamy gold falling loosely down over her blossoming chest. Frida felt her heart grow large in her chest with admiration.

She wished for nothing more than to reach this woman, this goddess of another world, and she felt her muscles tensing as she strained herself to move just a little bit further over the stones beneath her.

The goddess would not come to her. Frida knew that she had to prove her strength in order for her to accept her. She knew that she had to show her that she really wanted nothing more in this world than to touch her if only just for a second. So Frida pushed her body forward, she pushed all the fear out of her heart as she slowly moved her body closer and closer, further and further into the bright light that hovered about the woman in front of her.

She could feel the warmth of the woman, the heat steaming from her skin, and Frida screamed violently when she pushed herself forward, straining herself through the last couple of inches that separated them, and she let out a deep breath when she felt a hand in hers.

Warmth exploded in her insides, crippling through her veins like an army of ants, slowly replacing the waves of pain that had washed over her in her journey over the bridge. Frida looked up at the face of the woman through half closed eyes, and she knew that she had proved herself.

The goddess was smiling widely at her, acknowledging her, praising her, and Frida finally felt herself relaxing again. She heard the woman laughing. It was a genuine laughter, an affectionate sound of the heart, and Frida strained herself for the last time, raising her eyes to gaze into the goddess'.

Moss green pearls stared at her, pierced her heart and searched every corner of her soul, and Frida let her see all of the secrets of her heart, all of her deepest fears and wishes folded out for the goddess in front of her. The pearls of the forest swallowed her, and Frida fell for an eternity through flickering greens into a valley of bravery and loving caresses.