Traditions

This flash piece is a rough draft of a scene from the prequel novel of The Prophecies of Ragnarok, a Norse mythology-based new adult series I'm currently writing with Marie Sinadjan. It may or may not end up in the final version of the novel.

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
• Reporting In
• Brother's Keeper
• Escaping Asgard Redux
• Traditions (this story)
• Primping
• 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.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hodr moved quietly up to the old, crumbling castle. His eyes were constantly flickering up to the sky, trying to make sure no blackbirds dotted the sky at all. The old castle was at the edge of the wall, about the same distance as Loki’s cottage but on the opposite side of Asgard.

It was his great-grandfather’s ancestral home and where he’s been entombed. The reason they were here. Buri has been entombed in the crypt below the castle with his sword. A sword he now needed.

“Why are we being so quiet?” Rygi whispered the question, but in the silence of their spell to make them invisible, it felt way too loud.

Njal nudged Rygi with a little grin, “Because he doesn’t want to wake the dead, of course!” Even in his amused tone, the words were still hushed and quiet.

Hodr shook his head and held his finger to his lips. “Because any shift of rune magic will be felt and any raven that hears or spots us in Asgard will report it back to him.” The last thing he needed was for his father or brothers to find him here and drag him home.

“He can use ravens to spy??” Njal looked surprised, eyes flickering up to the sky to ensure they were alone.

Moving forward, Hodr pushed open the front door of the castle and he motioned his two bears into the crumbled keep. “Yeah. It’s how he caught me leaving the first time and it cost me years.” Rygi helped him close the door once they were inside. He didn’t wait for them to question where to go, leading them down a hallway to an arch that opened to stairs headed down. The sun was still out, and the roof and walls were broken enough in places that they had enough light to see by for now, but the basement would be a different story.

“And?” Rygi prodded curiously.

“And I don’t want it to cost me my official wedding.” Hodr glanced over at his cousin with a look that said obviously. “I want to be her husband, to be with her, not bound to Asgard, or dead.”

Rygi bumped Hodr’s shoulder with a smile. “Look at you all soft.” Striking some flint on a stone, he lit a torch for them. No magic so they wouldn’t be given away. “And you do make her happy.”

Taking lead, Hodr shook his head and moved down the stairs after Rygi handed him a torch. “She makes me happy too. And after all the marriages in Asgard, I love the idea of this tradition the Jotnar have. It makes the marriage mean more.” At least, hold more weight.

Trading family swords, showing that you will carry arms for your spouse. It felt right, and Geiravor had tried to soothe him because she knew Odin had Bor’s sword. He made it well known. However, Hodr had another grandparent that had a sword, one Bor hadn’t wanted at Buri’s death.

Excitement raced through him as he turned left at the end of the stairs. He couldn’t wait to show her that he was serious about doing right by her people and able to keep this tradition alive with their Queen.

“Any other family relics you want to grab while we’re here?” Njal glanced around as they passed a few tombs set into the walls. The names faded to time and were unreadable in the carved stone. “We might as well grab everything while we’re here.”

The first instinct was to say no, they were only here for his grandfather’s sword. But the words stilled on his lips as he stopped at a side room off the hallway. “Maybe. But we need to grab the sword first.”

The room they entered was ornate and instead of in a wall, Buri’s tomb was settled in the center of the room. Even the carved version of his grandfather held a sword in his silent slumber. No words were needed as the three lined up along one side and with a silent count, pushed the top of the tomb over enough to get inside.

Hodr had been very clear that he didn’t want this damaged. They weren’t ransacking the old Aesir tombs, merely getting what technically belonged to him for a wedding tradition.

Rygi held a torch up so Hodr could see inside. Buri’s skeleton rested peacefully, sharp hands resting over the hilt of the sword.

“We mean no disrespect, Great-Granddad.” Hodr offered the words like he could comfort the dead as he reached in to get the sword. He was careful too, moving the hands as gently as he could so they weren’t breaking apart. Lifting the freed sword out, he offered it to Njal before setting the hands back in place. “Passed on to a generation who will see it used well and honorable.”

Njal handed the sword back to Hodr once the skeleton was settled. It slid easily into the back sheath he wore, brought specifically to bring it home with them. “I think he would approve.”

A nod followed as Rygi’s answer as they moved to push the tomb lid back into place. Paying respect to the tomb itself, by putting everything back. “He was a Jotnar too, after all. So he would have followed the tradition.”

Hodr smiled at his guards, nodding. It felt nice to hear it said though, that they thought his great-grandfather would approve. It helped to be reminded Buri was the one who split from the Jotnar tribes too. He was Hodr’s connection to the Jotnar, to Rygi. So it was more fitting it was Buri’s sword he was using too.

“Okay, one more thing. Buri’s wife had a necklace that from the stories had passed from mother to daughter, but she only had sons.” Bor had refused it too, to pass to his wife. It was starting to add up to Hodr where this family went wrong. Like Vali following in Odin’s footsteps, likely Odin merely followed in Bor’s.

Njal moved over to the doorway and looked further down the hallway. “So are we looking for a new tomb?”

A chuckle left him. “No, she was seen to pyre. So her jewelry was hidden with her husband.” Hodr moved around the room with the torch for a moment, inspecting the carvings on the stones carefully. Reaching out his hand, he teases along some of the symbols before finding one he recognized from the stories he and Geiravor had devoured as teens.

The stone slid into the wall and after a moment, another stone slid to the side to show an elegant jewelry box. Hodr didn’t bother lifting it out, because they weren’t taking all of it. Instead, he opened it and lifted out a silver necklace with ice-blue stones.

“That is amazing!” Njal whispered his awe as he leaned forward, but kept his hands to himself.

Hodr smiled as he glanced over at Rygi. “Got that cloth in your pocket still!” He wanted to wrap it in something to keep it safe, this has been a second thought because Njal has made a comment about it.

“You’re lucky I do.” Rygi pulled it out, handing it over. “Otherwise it would have had to bounce around in that pocket of yours.”

Chuckling, Hodr took it and carefully wrapped the necklace before it did, actually go into his pocket. “Okay. Now back home to get me married to the best woman in the nine realms.”

Njal settled his arm around Hodr’s shoulders. “You are one lucky man.”

Rygi grinned as he nudged the two toward the exit. “First we get him back to Jotunheim in one piece. Then we chain him to a wife.”

“Should I mention to your wife you consider it a chain?” Hodr laughed as he pushed another stone and the wall closed up and sealed itself before he let himself be nudged back the way they came.

A wink came from Rygi. “Oh, she knows. And it’s not a spiritual chain, it’s a literal one when we feel playful.”

Hodr groaned a little and shook his head. “Not needed!”

All of them laughed though, getting it out a little before they reached the top of the stairs and extinguished the torches. Now that they were back above ground, it was back to quiet and a Jotnar spell that cloaked them as they headed back to the portal and then home to Geiravor and the final wedding plans.