A Bang and a Whimper

41

At the gate, Sif waits. Her horse is much more patient than she is. Only small hints of her gown peek from under her long black riding jacket. Black lace over opalescent white. She puts the hood up over her hair, her tiny braids twisted into a bun, their tails trickling down to tickle her neck.

"I hope they arrive soon."

Hogun, the moon as always, looks at the sky, "They have a few minutes before we need to leave. They will be here soon. Does the Lady Sif grow impatient?"

"Yes."

"And nervous?"

"Not about the act itself, but in the defiance in it, yes."

"Your father."

"Yes, my father."

"I have never seen you so concerned with what her father thinks."

She smiles a little, "Well, never before have I decided to continue a courtship against his will and then marry in secret . Though he has made it clear that I am no longer his daughter, there is still lingering fear of what he will do when he finds out."

"By then, you will be sister to the king."

Her smile widens, "Hogun, did you ever envision my wedding day?"

"No. I dared not presume."

"I did not either. This is entirely new."

"Are you happy?"

"Very. I am the master of my own fate."

"Yes. Remember that. You have chosen this. No one else. And if he tries to make your choice mean something less, hold fast."

"Thank you. My entire family is now the one I have built. My brothers, not only in arms. My brother, my king. A husband. A niece."

"And an All-Father."

"Yes. And all the complications that come with that. But still, life is good."

They hear hoofbeats and the others join them. Hogun takes the lead and they ride out. They meet Volstagg and his cart of laughing, singing, colorfully bedecked children at their home. They take a different route to the hills, Volstagg guiding their course, through the poorest part of the city. It is a purposeful detour.

As they ride past the run down houses, some clearly occupied while falling in on themselves, they see lights springing from the alleys. People with torches are gathering. Volstagg slows their procession and his oldest son hops from the cart, lighting a torch of his own. They follow the lights. Behind the cart, Odin watches, curious, but wary, from his place riding beside Hogun.

Fandral edges his horse a little closer to Sif, "Do you recall the last time we joined this particular procession?"

"It has been years."

"His son is old enough now- do you think he remembers when his parents carried him here?"

"Likely not. They last lit the fire while Volstagg's mother was yet living."

Behind them, between her father and uncle, Jenna stretches to see what is happening. The people carrying torches around them are all younger, some smaller than she is; she leans toward Loki, "Do you know what they are doing?"

"I have an idea. Ask your father."

"Father, what are they doing?"

"I do not know."

"Uncle, he does not know."

"They are celebrating Midsummer's Eve. There are many here from the hills who came for work. Watch, you will soon see."