Fire is said to be one of the most tragic causes of destruction known to the universe. It burns and leaves naught but dust behind. What once was, shall never be anymore but reduced to ashes. Fire takes and never gives back what once was precious; except birth to new life. In its path of destruction of spoilt blackness, a single leaf of green spouts from the ashes. Life will heal itself eventually.
Oh so they say.
White fire continued at the Vanir ship crashed into the pier and no matter the fight the people give, the attempt to snuff out its life is in vein. Even as the evening turned to night the stars are still amiss. Not a speck can be seen from the black clouds that billowed and blended into the dark sky. It set a haze over Asgard that evening; an unsettling feeling. It chocked out the air and dusted every surface with soot.
Sigyn can taste the soot on her tongue and when she runs a finger across the railing she picked up black soot on her finger. With the trail she carved with her finger she is reminded of wars not to distant ago. She watches from the towers of the palace - a shawl over her shoulders. She is saddened by this.
With a royal wedding four days away the realm is struck by grief. This was supposed to be a happy time leading with brightness and ends of wars.
She cannot see anymore.
Sigyn turns away, her night gown sifting over the floor dragging marks through the soot. She steps inside and closes her chambers from the outside. Sigyn lets out a breath with the smell of smoke still heavy in her lungs. Her eyes lift to her sisters gathered safely in her chamber and she says, "They are still out there." she sweeps across the floor.
"What is going to happen now?" Hnoss sits shoulder to shoulder with Gersemi on the lounges. Comforted by the embers of the fire in the pit.
"I don't know, sweet sister." replied Sigyn, coming to stand over the lounge. "We can only hope our warriors made it out safe."
Hnoss genuinely nods. She looks back to the pit combing a brush through white strands of hair. Gersemi, who is her opposite stares into the fire pit unblinking. Her wild gold locks are in a state of permanent curls and it always seems that flowers are in her hair. Her skin tainted by the sun with years - where her twin is unblemished and seemingly pure as snow.
On the adjacent lounge, Nanna sits with her sleeping son in her lap covered with furs. His little face pulled together in anguish even in his sleep. Nanna gently brushes delicate fingers through his hair.
As Sigyn stands there she comes to the realisation this may be the last time she and her sisters will be together before her marriage. The last time they sit around a fire as family. Each of them silent, but thinking the same thing; all reminded of similar times they were evacuated deep into the forests of Vanaheim to seek refugee from the war that came a little too close to home. All young princesses huddled around a fire in a small hut kept entertained by their brother.
"I am worried about Sigvard." Nanna whispered.
"As am I." says Gersemi. "We have not heard word."
"If we were under attack we would know it by now." Hnoss added. "I think it is safe to assume we can return to our chambers."
"Not until mother and father give their word." Sigyn said.
Hnoss swivels to look at Sigyn with large eyes and Sigyn gazes down at her sister, waiting for her to speak. "Is this a bad omen? Days away from your wedding and our ship sinks? What does this mean?"
Sigyn smiles softly placing a hand to Hnoss's shoulder. "This is not a bad omen. You have nothing to fear. If The Norns had deemed this union unfit then they would have other means of diverting it."
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His Queen | Book 1
FanfictionA tale sought to be as old as time. A story told around a campfire as the children eagerly leaned in, hungry for the next plot. The story of young gods that commanded the winds and tides, that wove your fate and destiny; gods that rode into battle o...
