Thordin went rigid, his hands falling away from Sif’s shoulders like ashes drifting on the wind. “What?”
“The child had quickened by the time that trap was sprung,” she said, her voice still barely audible. “I had no choice. He would have been killed for who his father was and I knew you wouldn’t want that, even as stubborn as you are. You wouldn’t have wanted your child condemned for being his father’s son.”
“Christus,” Thordin breathed. “For all you knew, he had a hand in my betrayal.”
“He didn’t,” Sif said, stepping toward him even as Thordin fell back a step, back into arms’ reach of Thom and Marin. “I know that he didn’t. For all of his faults, your brother loved you. He said that he wished he knew who’d done the dead so he could feed them their own entrails.”
Thordin shook his head hard, turning away. “I know my brother. For all that we came from—”
“He loved you.”
“You keep saying it in the past tense,” Marin said softly. “Did something happen?”
“He’s probably dead,” Sif said simply. “He walked off into the night one dark evening and no one has ever seen him again.” She drew herself straighter, tearing her gaze from the back of Thordin’s neck and turning her eyes to Marin and Thom again. ”Enough of this. I’ll have your answer.”
“They’re spoken for, Sif. Have a closer look at them.”
Thom flinched at the sound of Phelan’s voice, twisting toward his limping figure. Phelan just grinned.
“Your brother’s got good head on his shoulders, leánnan. He took one look at what was brewing and came to find me.”
“Jacqueline’s going to kill you,” Marin said.
“Maybe,” Phelan agreed. “Then again, maybe not.”
Thordin put his hand lightly on Phelan’s shoulder. “She’s right, you don’t have to be out here.”
“Of course I do.” Phelan looked right past the three of them to Sif. “The sisters three are gunning for me and mine, Sif, and they’re not the only ones.”
“You and yours. You can’t possibly—” She stopped, staring at Marin and Thom for a long moment, then blinked and looked at Phelan again. “Aes Dana.”
“If we dared, most of them would trace their descent straight back.” Phelan patted Thom’s shoulder and then stepped between him and Marin. Thom stepped up with him, ready to steady him if the need arose.
Sif swore quietly and shook her head hard. “He won’t like this.”
“He doesn’t have to,” Phelan said in a quiet voice. “Nor does he have to believe that ragnarok has actually come, because it hasn’t. I would know. They would know.”
“The world already ended,” Marin said quietly. “We’re what’s left.”
Understanding dawned in Sf’s eyes. “The war began before we ever realized it.”
“Come sit by our fire,” Marin said. “Rest a while and tell us your story. I think we’d all like to hear it.” She cast a meaningful look at Thordin.
He just walked away.
Thor isn’t supposed to survive Ragnarok, but his sons are. I forget their names- I haven’t read the myth in a long time. That’s the thing about the Norse Apocalypse; it’s not the end. Yggdrasil survives, though Midgard, Muspelheim, Alfheim, Jotunheim and the other worlds are shattered and, moreover, humanity survives- two humans climb the branches of the World Ash before the destruction of Midgard.
From what I understand (and Norse mythology isn’t my strongest mythology but it’s fun to play with), none of the gods were supposed to survive Ragnarok.
Good thing I just play with mythology–I’m not enslaved to it.
Baldr survives, despite his death being a sign that Ragnarok is nigh. When Muspelheim is destroyed, Hel goes with it, and he escapes. Or maybe Loki’s daughter releases him first; I can’t remember. Speaking of Hel, she might survive, too- I don’t know how she dies, unlike two of her siblings. Her half-brother Sleipnir probably doesn’t survive, but might do.
I’ve never specialised in mythology, but it’s all fascinated me. My weakest points are Oriental, Celtic, African, Native American and Austrailian. I know scattered bits of Oriental, Slavic, African and even some Native American, but beyond naming a few Celtic and Australian mythological figures and (especially in the latter) creatures, I know nothing of them and less of Slavic.
I read. I thought. I logged out. Head is about to split open. Dang sinus.
Thanks for another great post. Stay warm.