Treason

This flash piece is a rough draft of scenes from the prequel novel of The Prophecies of Ragnarok, a Norse mythology based new adult series I'm currently writing with Meri Benson. It may or may not end up in the final version of the novel. This was also written in response to 8Letters' #31Letters challenge, an invitation to write every day for the whole month of January.

Here are the shorts we've written so far for the prequel, in chronological order:

• Birthright
• Ice Queen
• Quiet Time
• Tyr Lends A Hand
• Big Sister, Big Brother
• Just Friends
• Admittance
• Prison Break
• Escaping Asgard
• Marriage Plans
• New Normal
• Hunting Trip
• Night Out
• Waltz
• Treason (this story)
• Reporting In
• Brother's Keeper
• Final Hour
• Better Off Gone
• Resistance and Steps
• Forsaken
• Revenge Served With Rage
• Goodbye, Good Friend
• Inheritance
• A Winter's Bargain
• Death Finds All
• Homecoming
• Reconnection
• The Hour of the Wolf

Hotel Fen, the first published book of the series, follows after this point.

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In Norse mythology, Hel is said to preside over an underworld realm where she receives a portion of the dead. She is referred to as a daughter of Loki, and is described as having been appointed by the god Odin as ruler of a realm of the same name, located in Niflheim. Her appearance is described as half blue and half flesh-colored, and further as having a gloomy, downcast appearance.

Hodr is the blind son of Odin and Frigg, who is tricked and guided by Loki into shooting a mistletoe arrow which was to slay the otherwise invulnerable Baldr, his twin brother.

(Wikipedia)

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Hodr's lips were cold, as they often were whenever they kissed, but the kiss filled Geiravor with a warmth that she hadn't felt in a long time. A warmth that made her feel safe, that made her dream and hope and face the future without fear, that made her believe that there was nothing they couldn't do together.

Then he pushed her off and turned his head away. He was gentle about it, but it had been a dismissal all the same; his hands had wrenched hers off his tunic and nudged her back, putting some distance between them.

She was stunned into silence. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she struggled not to break into a sob.

His voice was quiet. "Don't do this if you're only going to run."

"Hodr..." She started to reach for him, but fearing he would only push her away again, she promptly decided against it. She drew her hand back and cradled it to her chest with the other. "What do you want us to do? Our people are at war, and your father..."

There were so many ways she could finish that sentence. Your father is our enemy. Your father wants me dead. Your father will never allow this. Instead, she just left it at that. He already knew all of that, anyway. She looked at him helplessly. "How will this ever work?"

"I don't know." He started to pace in front of her, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He went back and forth for a while until he stopped and turned to her, his expression pained. "I don't know, Geiravor." He stepped closer, taking her face in his hands and resting his forehead against hers. "All I know is that I don't want to lose you ever again. I will slay any man who touches you, let alone anyone who marries you. You're supposed to be mine."

"I still am." The truth spilled out of her in defiance of all logic. She was queen now, after all. She had a duty to her people, and love should not be more important than that. Yet it was. "I always have been."

He pulled back, though he did not release her, simply leaning away enough to meet her gaze. His eyes had turned into a pale blue, as they tended to do when he was emotional. He'd been so mad at her earlier they were nearly white. "I know I have nothing to offer but my love and loyalty. I don't have an army, or power of any kind. I'm just the spare—"

She placed her hands over his, drawing them away from her face and gripping them tightly in the space between them. She'd always hated it when he talked like that. As if he didn't matter. "Your love and loyalty are all I want and need." All this talk was stupid, she knew. She could already hear her father's voice in her head, telling her that their love wasn't going to help them win the war. He'd already said it once before. If anything, it would only infuriate Odin and give him more reason to attack Jotunheim. They'd already lost several of their number to Thor.

Hodr gave her a long, measured look. "And yet here you are, looking for a husband," he grumbled.

Catching his tone, Geiravor raised an eyebrow. "Are you proposing?"

"I already have, when you decide to remember."

She knew what he was implying, that it wasn't just what he'd said a moment ago. That night Jormungand was taken... they had been so young then, but they'd meant every word. She certainly did, and she'd believed him, too. It had been why the doubt Skadi tried to place in her mind never really took root. "I haven't forgotten."

"And has your answer... changed?" He sounded so small then, and she couldn't blame him. Not after she'd hurt him. She'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. And he was giving her the chance to hurt him all over again.

"No." She didn't deserve him. Neither did he deserve to be dragged into a war that would force him to stand against his family. But she wanted him, as selfish and as stupid as that was. She'd loved him from the moment he climbed that tree and gave her those stupid flowers.

"Then we are both in agreement that you do not need a new husband." He grinned goofily at her, that dumb grin he'd always had when he was stupid proud of something, and she had to wrinkle her nose and laugh. Though before she could say or do anything more he tugged her close, stealing her mouth in a slow, heated kiss.

This time, he didn't stop and push her away. Instead he carefully herded them into a dark, quiet corner of the garden, backing her up against a wall or pillar or tree; she couldn't really tell, and it didn't really matter. All she cared about was him, and how good it felt to have him in her arms again. Soon even the thoughts of war and their fathers faded from her mind.

- ✵ -

She didn't notice the scars until he got out of bed to pick up the blanket they'd ended up kicking to the floor. They crisscrossed along his back, standing out starkly against his skin.

"How did you get these?" she asked, resting her palm on his lower back once he sat down. He immediately tensed, and the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. She knew then that it was bad.

He even pretended not to have heard a word, moving to lie on his back and gently tugging her to rest and stretch above him. She did not protest, but once she had him pinned, she fixed him a stern stare. "Hodr."

He sighed, tipping his head back into his pillow. "The night you left..." He trailed off, his expression pained.

She still remembered the events of that night vividly: the bewildered look he gave her when he realized she was leaving; the betrayal she felt, misplaced as it had been; the spear piercing her shoulder; the wall of ice that allowed her and Skadi to get away...

Her chest ached, but not only with sadness and regret. There was anger, too. She was angry at herself, for she hadn't only hurt him with her departure, she'd also been the cause of his punishment and suffering. But most of all, she was angry at his father for employing such extreme measures. She'd long realized Odin was a cruel man, but did he have no shred of mercy for his sons?

Well, she actually knew the answer to that. He was good and kind to his sons — save for this one.

"I'm so sorry, Hodr." She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, while fingers of one hand caressed his hair and gently pushed the strands away from his face. "How bad was it?" She knew it wasn't fair of her to ask and make him recount such a horrible ordeal, but she needed to know just how much Odin had wronged him. She needed to know so she could make him pay.

Hodr still wouldn't look at her. Eventually, however, he admitted, "Father had me flogged, while they all watched." He shut his eyes, but not before she caught how they faded, even in the dim light of his bedroom. "Then he made me spar with Tyr for a month for attempting to leave Asgard and follow you. You know what that's like."

Geiravor felt her throat constrict. He'd tried to follow. Even after she left him with barely an explanation — and after he'd been beaten for helping her escape — he had still tried to reach her. Tears coming to her eyes, she shifted to bury her face into the crook of his neck. "Why didn't you tell me?" She sniffled.

He put an arm around her to keep her snuggled into him. "You were pretending not to know me, and flirting with my brother. I didn't think anything I said would make a difference." He kissed her hair, which was back to blonde now that they were alone and had no need of disguises. "And I didn't want your pity. I wanted you."

"I won't let it happen again," she swore, her voice muffled against his skin.

"I won't get caught. Not this time."

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "What—"

Cool fingers found her face and he tilted her chin to kiss her gently. "I'm never letting you go again. You are my heart." His gaze found hers, his blue eyes serious and earnest. "You are my queen."

Fear flickered across her face. "That's treason."

He lifted his brows, his fingertips trailing down her throat to her chest. "This isn't?"