The Old Gods | Book 2

Two: The Royal Council

A chalice is hurled across the chamber. It moved as if being set in motion by hand. The red content spills over in a spin. Separating in droplets. It pivots towards the marble floor where it cracks and glides dramatically. The red wine splashes and puddles. The chalice rolls in circles until very slowly, it stops.

"He what!?" roared the Queen of Vanaheim. "That spoiled, no good, selfish, little bigot!" she hurled slur words of all kinds, some more unfavourable than others.

Seven lords of Vanaheim are congressed around a long white table. All with white and pearlescent robes with stitches patterns of vines, flowers, and trees. They sat in long ashen chairs that looked as though the vine grew itself into a seat. They all sat with their eyes down and their chins high. All while their queen continued to curse the Prince Heir.

"After all we have done for him!" she shouted. "Does he forget it was my daughter who died!? She who lays in a crypt rotting away while he plays with his runes and trees on Midgard!"

The King of Vanaheim, sitting at the head of the table, sighed. "My dear love. Please." he begged.

Queen Freya turned again and pointed a finger at Forseti sitting silently at the table. "You ungrateful brat." she growled at him. "After all this time? And now you decide to come home and this is the news you deliver your king and queen!?" she spits harshly.

"My argument still stands, my queen." he simply replied.

Frustrated, the Queen growled, curving her fingers into claws. She turned away and marched a few steps forward. "Abdicating the throne! Do you have any idea what that means? An entirely new bloodline must ascend the throne and you will throw it all away and for what?! For what? You think this is a game, Forseti. What have you foreseen now?"

One of the lords spoke up, "Your grace, if I may?"

"What?!"

"Abdication also means abdicating all royal titles, lands, and any inheritance. Our laws forbid this!"

Queen Freya turned her golden eyes on him. "I am aware." she spat.

"He cannot just abdicate the throne of free will, he must be judged unfit, or unwell to rule. Take the Tainted Prince for example. Forseti has no reason - he gave no reason. A fair trial must be held and another chosen."

Then another lord argued. "This means Princess Sigyn is next of kin. She must be coronated as heir to the throne as soon as possible or our position will be left open and vulnerable to the other realms!"

Another lord then argued. "This would mean the position of the two princesses would be moved up. They would take on more responsibilities and duties. Not only, Prince Vali would then be heir and we cannot imagine him being a fit ruler?"

"Judging by his reports, he is excelling in intelligence, diligence, and skill of the sword. He has passed every exam with flying colours. He knows the history and the lands better than anyone. The Prince is top of his class. He is well on his way to becoming an exceptional warrior and a fine young man." the lord turned to smile at his king. "Not only, there is no report of the Prince phasing. His last shift was 1942 by standard Midgardian time. Over 80 years ago!"

"Who's to say he won't again?"

"Nonsense, I say. Shifting the entire line of succession forward is outrageous!" another lord argued. He speaks with an angry lower lip.

"We have not seen Prince Forseti since the death of Baldur and now he shows up to wash his hand of his realm after accepting his coronation and being crowned heir? It's treason."

"What will the people think of the royal family?"

"We cannot allow something like this to happen. The people of the realm will judge us weak and mendable. The position to ascend the throne will be for the taking."

The council chamber falls silent. All eyes are turned to the King who is looking only at Forseti. The lords sit quietly in the chilly awkwardness. One clears his throat. King Iwaldi's icy eyes then frosted over to the lords and then back to Forseti. "So this is your plan?" he realised, gesturing his finger. "To crown Sigyn."

Forseti nodded. "I want for nothing in this life." he said.

"Your grace." another lord spoke up. "We all know the secrecy of the prophecy, but I am afraid there is a chance that it might not come to fruition."

"It will." replied Forseti. "I have foreseen it."

Another lord scoffed. "To crown a woman as heir? Unheard of. Simply unheard of."

"What are we, in the dark ages?" the Queen reprehended. "If I am your queen, a woman, then behead me now!"

"Your majesty." an older voice spoke. "I have been your advisor for the longest. And I am advising you to heed Prince Forseti and crown your daughter, Princess Sigyn. The people do not know their prince." he cried, sadly. "And the people of the realms all love the Princess the same."

"Then what will you have me do with him?" the king gestured to Forseti. "Throw him out abolished of everything he owns with nothing but a name to him? He is the blood of Vanaheim. My daughter's last blood. I will not see him cast out into a stranger's realm to live out the rest of his life as the mortals live and die around him."

Queen Freya shrugged. "If that is what he wishes, then let him have what he wants." she harshly spat. She was angry and upset and rightfully so. She wishes to see the son of Baldur and Nanna on the throne. He is wise, kind, selfless, and handsome, and he wields a powerful gift. All the attributes of a king. But he lacks motivation and ambition.

As the rightful heir, the Queen wants the line of succession to pass down to the rightful heir, and that should have been Nanna and Baldur. Oh, she missed them.

The seven lords exchanged a few words between themselves quietly before coming to a nodding conclusion. "Your grace, my King. We suggest making Forseti the seer of Vanaheim. The realm has been without one for far too long. The people are without a way to connect to The Norns or the spirits of their dead."

"And we have been just fine all this time." the queen snapped.

Iwaldi, slouched in his chair, held up his hand to silence his wife. He sat contemplating for a moment, chin in hand. Until he said, "I consent to this, only if you, Forseti, accept this most gracious offer?"

Without a second wasted, he responded, "I accept."

"Then it is done."