Category: Shades of the Past


Heimdall looked up at his uncle anxiously. He wasn’t afraid, he told himself. The punishment wasn’t meant to harm. He would be placed in a position where it would be impossible for him to repeat his infraction. He would be youthened back to childhood and his memories of the events that precipitated the crime would be erased.

The man had been talking while he was thinking. Probably some kind of ceremony, Lord Tyr loved ceremonies. Heimdall glanced at Gna and she smiled tremulously. He took her hand and then took the apple that Lord Tyr was holding out to him. She took a second apple from the Lord of Justice’s hand. Together, they ate the apples, their second for the day.

The effects were immeadiate and dramatic. Heimdall felt his head swim and he closed his eyes, clamping his hand more firmly on Gna’s. When his head was clear once more he was much smaller. “Just how will you erase our memories?” he asked softly. “And just how much will you erase?”

“Not enough to change who you are,” Lord Tyr assured him. “Think of Lady Gna, what you have done with her and the feelings you have shared. Lady, you do the same.”

Eyes swimming with tears, she nodded. Still clutching each other’s hands, the couple focused their thoughts on one another. Heimdall felt a strange pressure and then the memories began fading away. First the evening they had spent together – the reason they were being punished in the first place. Then the days and nights they had spent together reading poems. Last their first meeting on the bridge.

Heimdall opened his eyes as even the memories of the punishment itself faded. He looked up at Lord Tyr and said, “Uncle, my clothes is too big.”

“I know,” the older man said softly. “The pair of you will need new clothes. I’ll bring you to the Happy Hall and one of the ladies there will take charge of you. Most likely, Lady Freya.”

As they were being led toward the hall, Heimdall turned toward the little girl beside him and said, “Hello. I’m Alarr.” He blushed slightly as he noticed she was holding his hand. She was very pretty.

“My name is Lifa,” she replied, flashing him a bright smile.

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Heimdall settled back against the rock as he read the poem to Gna. Suddenly she burst out laughing. He grinned back. “I can understand where he’s coming from,” he said softly. “She sustains him.”

“I suppose,” Gna said softly. “Do you feel like my love sustains you?”

“Yes, dearest,” Heimdall agreed. “Like the poet, if you were gone from me, even for a moment, I would search for you.” She snuggled against him and they turned back to the book of poetry.

Heimdall watched the water moving on the shore. First one wave, then another would beat the shore. He could count them. He sighed and looked up to see the home he’d shared with his mothers sinking back beneath the waves. Settling back on the beach, he watched as it disappeared.

When it was gone, the young asa turned toward the forest beyond the sandy beach. He would now go to Asgard to be with his father’s people. He didn’t know what awaited him in the halls of Asgard. He hoped that he could at least find another home, as he had with his mothers. “Good-bye,” he said softly as he walked up the beach.

Heimdall had meant to ask Frigga’s permission to court the handmaiden Gna. She might have denied him still, but then again maybe not. However, he never asked, since their meetings were so few a far between. He came to love the girl from afar at first. After all, he didn’t know how she felt for him.

Then, each time they met on the Rainbow Bridge grew longer and longer, until there was no doubt that she shared his feelings for her. Then they were already courting and he realized he’d never asked. If Gna realized it, she didn’t mention it.

So the quiet, solitary asa gently and tenderly began courting the messenger of Lady Frigga. They stood together on the bridge watching the clouds and birds as they passed by. Heimdall read her love poetry from books she’d borrowed from the others in the Happy Hall.

Among their favorite was a long poem written by a man who’d loved a princess, though it meant his life. It was not too unlike their situation. Heimdall was sure that neither would die for their love but if they were discovered, they would be punished. Still they persisted in clandestine meetings and stolen glances. It had gone too far to ask permission now. If they must be punished, let it be because they gave each other all their hearts, not holding back anything.

Nous Sommes Fucked

“Loki,” Heimdall whispered. “What did you say would happen if your brothers caught you so close to Asgard?”

“I didn’t but it wouldn’t be pretty,” Loki replied. He closed his eyes and swallowed heavily before he met the redhead’s gaze and asked, “Why?”

“Because they’re coming… I doubt we can out run them in this grassland,” Heimdall returned.

“Then we’d better out-think them, I don’t want to think of the consequences otherwise,” Loki replied. He closed his eyes again, this time to calm his mind. Panic wouldn’t help and if he didn’t come up with a solution soon, both of them would be in a heap of trouble.

Heimdall sighed and watched, as he always did, across the rainbow bridge called Bifrost. He was the watchman, solitary and silent. Only when someone approached did he speak and then only to ask their business and send them away or allow their entry. Today had seemed no different, that is until Friga’s messenger had come across the bridge, returning from the human world.

“Good day,” she greeted. “I’m Gna; returning to my mistress, Frigga.”

Heimdall nodded and stepped aside to allow the maiden to pass. “Good day,” he murmured.

Gna turned and smiled, something no one had ever done. “The sun is pleasant and the air is fine today. Perhaps when I’ve finished my duties for my mistress, I’ll join you.” She scampered off, leaving him staring open mouthed behind her.

It was a beginning that would prove to be an ending. A forbidden relationship that could only have one logical conclusion. It was something he almost had no choice but to see to the inevitable end.

Llyr sighed as he watched Morena rock their son to sleep. If her visions had been at all accurate there was only one choice. Their first-born son would have to be sent away. Not just sent to foster with another family until he’d learned the ways of court, but actually sent away, with a strong likelihood that neither of them would see him again.

The little one that Morena was rocking would be his heir. He already had the mark, faint but obvious, on his brow. This would be the only way to preserve the proper bloodline. Morena set the child in his cradle and stepped lightly to his side.

“Are you sure about this? Is there nothing else we can do?” he asked.

“If we knew when it was going to happen, we could possibly prevent it but I only know that neither of them is our son,” she said. “It’s time,” she added, taking his hand.

They walked together to the older of their children. He was already asleep in his bed. Lord Eros waited for them. He would raise the boy as his own and no one would know any different. Even the courtiers rarely saw the royal children. The story that would be sent out would be taken as fact by all. Only one thing remained.

“Thank you for this,” Llyr said softly. “I am truly sorry that we’re taking advantage of your loss.”

“I understand. He can’t replace my son… but I will raise him as my own,” he said. “He’ll know no different, right?”

“Right,” Llyr said softly. “The spell will steal his memories. He’ll never know his true heritage… nor will any of those who descend from his line.”

“Some day the lines will merge and a True-born Heir will come of it,” Morena said softly. Llyr nodded and peeked into the room for what was probably his last look at his oldest son. The preparations for the spell had been lengthy but now all was ready.

The monarch began the chant and energy swirled around the room. Morena added her part and the energy focused on their son. Lord Aizen completed the spell and silvery threads seemed to flow from the sleeping boy’s forehead. Blue threads swirled from the energy they had called and settled over the child. Then the light faded and the spell was complete.

Llyr bowed and left the room, drawing Morena behind him. Lord Eros stepped up to the sleeping boy and set a hand on his shoulder. Auburn lashes fluttered and golden eyes opened. “Father?” the boy said softly.

“Yes,” he said softly. “I’m here.”

Llyr chuckled as he came around the bushes that hid the path.  His fiancé was hiding in the garden, waiting to be found.  Llyr grinned at the thought of surprising her.  His tutor thought that such things were beneath his station as True-born heir and prince of Mag Mell, however the pair didn’t really pay him any mind.  “Morena,” Llyr called teasingly.  “I’m coming to get you.”

 He heard a feminine giggle but lost track of it before he found the girl he was searching for.

 “Highness,” a weary voice called.  Llyr chuckled and ducked down into a thicket as the voice continued, “Highness, we’ve no time for games.  You have to return to your lessons.”

 The young prince stifled a chuckled as the stuffy tutor passed by his hiding place a few times and finally gave up.  As he was standing hands covered his eyes.

 “Guess who,” a feminine voice chirped.

 “Morena!” Llyr greeted as he whirled to catch her around the waist.  Their lips met in a passionate kiss and he smiled down at her as they stepped back.  “You didn’t let me find you,” he accused.

 “I was bored so I came looking for you,” she said.  “What did Master Helaku want?”

 “Lessons,” Llyr replied dismissively.  “Shall we continue?”

 “Catch me first,” Morena invited as she dashed away into the garden.  Llyr chuckled delightedly and ran to chase her.

Llyr closed his eyes and opened his other senses – both physical and mental.  Immediately everything in the dark cavern became clear.  The sounds seemed louder.  He could hear the occasional drip of water and the scattering of rocks by the shoes of the bandits pursuing him.  The wall beneath his hands seemed rougher somehow.  Every nook and cranny, every sharp edge of the rock stood out in relief.  He could smell both the damp stone around him and the foul stink of the unwashed bodies of his pursuers.  The scents were so strong he could almost taste them.  Behind him the auras of the bandits glowed brightly to his inner sight. 

 They would be upon him soon.  He didn’t know exactly what they wanted but he knew – somehow – where they would be taking him.  All this information, he imprinted on the wall beneath his hands.  He prayed his friends would find it; that they would find him; that he would be rescued.  He stepped back into the arms of the bandit leader.

 The man was shocked but pleased as the deiva prince relaxed into his arms.  “Done running, boy?” he asked.  His grin showed teeth that were black and full of holes.

 “You won’t win,” Llyr murmured.  “I won’t fight you – I can’t – but you won’t win.”

Monica Ferris

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